


The Supreme Leader's Pilot

by SupremeLeaderRen13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13768209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupremeLeaderRen13/pseuds/SupremeLeaderRen13
Summary: The new Supreme Leader of the First Order takes an interesting hostage for his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been DEEP in the sin bin with this one. I have nothing to say for myself except that I saw some really beautiful artwork that made me think of this, and I'm a terrible person. Being on the Save Ben Solo train, I'm not sure why the idea of a monstrous Ren interests me, but here we are.   
> Enjoy, and may the Force be with you always.

“Supreme Leader—excuse me, Supreme Leader?” The reedy voice of General Hux shook a bit on the last two words, as though he’d like to choke on them. He stepped smartly down the walk, approaching the platform on which Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order, currently knelt. The man’s eyes never opened, but Hux could feel the unseen, damnable Force pressing in on him the closer he came to the Supreme Leader, eventually stopping him in his tracks.   
“What did I tell you about bothering me while I’m meditating?” Ren’s voice was deep as ever, but had lost the fire behind it since their defeat on Crait. For some reason, the hollowness made it all the more frightening—this was a man with nothing left to lose.   
Still, he restrained himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty. “Yes, yes, and while I recognize the importance of your ritual—“ The same Force that held him away from Ren now pressed in on his throat, and Hux coughed. “Let me speak, damn it! We’ve captured one of the resistance reconnaissance pilots.”  
He staggered and nearly fell as the Force released him and Ren opened his dark eyes. “Who?” He stared beyond Hux’s shoulder for a minute, eyes unfocused. “Ah. Right. I will be there shortly.” Something dangerous flickered across his face. “Dismissed.”  
“Yes, well.” Hux was huffy, not used to playing the part of messenger boy. He was a general, not an ensign, for kriff’s sake! But no one else would approach this monster of a man who was, if anything, more volatile than ever. “My men are working on him now.”  
“No doubt they will need my assistance, then. They didn’t get very far last time.” Hux purpled with suppressed rage, but bit his lip. Not now. In time, he would coach this overgrown child into something controllable. Until then, he would grit his teeth and bear it.  
“Very well.”  
Poe Dameron had been in worse spots. He couldn’t think of any at the moment, but there had to have been something worse than currently sweating on an inverted restraining table in a tiny First Order holding cell. His fingers twitched and he flexed them experimentally, shaking all the while. At least they still worked. A beating, he could handle. Electrocution, well, that would put anyone on their ass. He tried again to spit out whatever they had shoved in his mouth to keep him from chomping down on his tongue while they tortured him and failed.  
The door to the holding cell slid open and he tried not to panic. Surely less time had passed than what they’d allowed him during their first break. If they were going to come back every two minutes, he wasn’t going to make it much longer, although he’d let his heart give out before he gave them even two words on the resistance. They were too new, too fragile, and he wasn’t letting hope die out in the galaxy because he’d gotten too close to this ship.   
Footsteps told him someone had entered the room and was now slowly slinking along the edges, taking their time in prolonging his anticipation. Frustrated, he finally managed to spit out the wood they’d forced between his teeth.  
“Are you going to light me up, or just stand there? It’s not uncommon for men in power to have performance issues, you know.” His head snapped back against the cold metal as another charge rocketed through his body, this one so strong he was raised onto his toes.  
“Stop it—now!” The voice was low, commanding, and sharp. “If you rise to bait like that every time someone throws it at you, it’s no wonder we can’t keep a prisoner alive long enough to obtain any information. Get out!” Poe sagged a little against the restraints, his energy truly depleted this time, barely registering the sound of the door sliding shut again.  
“You just can’t stay away, can you?” Poe raised his head with great effort, struggling to make the stars in his vision go away. The face of Kylo Ren looked back at him impassively, apparently waiting for him to speak.  
“Could say the same to you, pal.” He tried to laugh and only managed to chuckle weakly into his shoulder.   
“You joke so much for someone in imminent danger of losing their life.” Ren circled him slowly, coming to rest directly in front of him. He leaned back on the interrogator’s table and picked up the small square remote that engaged the electrodes, toying with it. Poe couldn’t help it—he flinched.   
The Supreme Leader didn’t miss the movement, and something flickered in his expression. He pushed the remote to the side. “You know I don’t need that.” He crossed his arms. “So tell me what I want to know, pilot.”  
“Pilot.” Poe snorted. “As if you don’t know my name. As if you’ve never met me.” He coughed, his voice cracking on the last word.   
“I don’t know you, resistance scum.” Kylo stood and walked behind him again, making him tense.  
“You do…” He coughed, his voice splintering again. “You do know me, Ben.”  
The blow came from behind, crashing soundly into his right ear. “Don’t say that name.” His skin burned where Ren had struck him as he swam back into his field of vision. “Here.”   
Poe blinked at the bottle in Ren’s hands. Since when did the Supreme Leader of the First Order hand out small mercies? His tongue was dry in his mouth. He’d never wanted something so much in his life, but he couldn’t take it from this monster. He turned his head.  
“I said…” Kylo pressed on Poe with the Force, pulling his head forward. “Drink.” Even though this was undoubtedly done in the name of keeping him alive to prolong his torture, Poe could see no way out of it. He wrapped his lips around the straw and pulled. Water, wonderfully cold, coated his dry mouth and washed down his throat. Black dots appeared in his vision as he took another few gulps.  
“Easy, easy. Stop.” Kylo ripped the straw away from his cracked lips. “Any faster and you’ll vomit it all back up on my floor.”  
He gasped. “A lot of trouble, I’m sure, for one of your lackeys.”  
Kylo Ren nearly smirked at that, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Servants, you mean. You don’t like that idea, do you?”  
“Brainwashing people into bowing down to you at all times? Yeah, I’m not big on that.”  
“But you are interested in me.”  
Poe glanced over Ren’s shoulder. “I’m interested in my old friend, Ben Solo.” The name sent the familiar starbursts of pain through his chest, which were quickly overcome by another shock from the electrodes. He groaned.  
“I told you not to use that name.” The remote was now nestled in Ren’s hand again. He came closer. “But you weren’t just friends with that pathetic boy, were you?” He rested a hand on either side of the interrogation chair, hovering over Poe like a shadow. “Ben Solo isn’t going to save you from me, Poe.”  
Something was very wrong. This was much, much worse than any interrogation training he’d had before. “Please…Ben, please…”  
“Wrong answer.” Kylo Ren tapped the button again, and Poe knew no more.  
When Poe came to, he forgot where he was for a moment. He was lying face down in a large, comfortable bed, completely at peace. At least until he realized that his hands were cuffed behind his back. Instantly he couldn’t remember why he’d initially thought he was comfortable. Pain radiated from both shoulders, apparently indignant at being restrained in this unnatural position for so long. He pulled hard on his dominant hand, struggling to find a weakness in the cuffs. Nothing gave.  
Grunting with frustration, he forced himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Something cool and hard slid down his back, making him jump. His fingers scrabbled to grab whatever it was.   
No. No, this was not happening. He craned his head over his shoulder. A long, thick gold chain extended behind him, pooling on the floor beside the bed. He realized now that the heaviness around his shoulders was caused by a collar that someone had strapped around his neck, a collar that connected to that chain. He glanced down at the bed again. Slavery. Sexual slavery. Somehow, he’d always assumed that to be a threat for women only.  
Wrong again.   
There was no one else in the room with him, so he decided to test out his range. The chain let him have the run of quarters—full refresher suite, a small sitting room, the bedroom (he shuddered) all were within his reach. There was absolutely nothing in any of the rooms to clue him in as to whose quarters there were, although he had a pretty good idea.  
After several hours of pacing, the pain in his shoulders became unbearable. Poe flopped back into the bed, pressing his face into the darkly covered pillows. Lying like this lessened the strain on his arms, making it fade to a dull ache. Surely the resistance knew he’d been captured by now, he thought desperately. Although, he knew, there would be no coming to get him. They just couldn’t afford to lose any more ships, and he’d already cost them one. He thought with a pang of BB-8 and his X-wing, ensconced in First Order holding.  
He fell into an uneasy sleep, thanking the Force he was at least still dressed.  
“Are you always this lazy?”  
Poe rolled over, sending a fresh wave of pain down his sore shoulders. “Only if I’m left without stimulation.” He immediately regretted his words, biting on the sharp tongue his mother had always sworn would get him in trouble. Kylo Ren was standing above him, looking irritated. “Why?”  
Ren surprised him by answering honestly. “Because you interest me. And I know that you have more information that I need.” Ren unclasped his belt and threw his magic laser sword on the table. The loud noise made him jump.  
“Who…” He nodded his head towards his body, which had been scrubbed clean and dressed in soft, new pants sometime before he first awoke.  
“Bathed you? Med droids. There was no way I was putting you in my bed the way you smelled before.” Poe flushed, knowing that he had to have been vile. He’d been on-ship for two days before his capture, then added to it with the sweat and burned flesh scent from the holding cell. Ren moved around the bed to lift the heavy chain into his hands. Fear trickled into his mind.  
“Why am I here, Ben?” He gave a sharp gasp as Ren stomped on the length of chain that fell from his hands, cutting off his airflow.   
“You will call me Kylo and nothing else.” He paused before answering his question. “I think you know why, pilot.” The knight relinquished his foothold on the chain, allowing Poe to breathe again. “It was actually General Hux that suggested it. It’s a common, albeit hushed, practice among those powerful in the Order.”  
“I will never—“  
“Are you fond of your home world, Dameron? What is it, Yanvin IV?” Poe stopped breathing, this time of his own accord. “Of course your parents are dead, but I would guess that you’d have to have some family out there. Maybe friends? If you want, that can be our next colonizing acquisition.” Ren dropped the chain on the floor. “Or a testing site for whatever Hux wants to funnel my money into next.”  
Poe looked away from him. “I’m hungry, Supreme Leader.”  
“I don’t doubt it.” Ren frowned, looking at him. “The resistance didn’t have enough to feed all of you or what?”  
He sighed, trying decide if this was information Ren could use to attack. Most likely not, and it was better to keep him talking. “Food was low for a time when the bas—when we started out in our new place. Everyone lost a little weight.”  
“A little.” Ren shoved his hand up under Poe’s shirt, placing his leather-clad palm on Poe’s protruding ribs. He tried to move away, and found he was being held still by that mysterious Force Ren could wield. “You all were starving. What kind of leader lets their people starve?” He ran his hand across Poe’s chest and back past his stomach. “You’ll have the best with me. The best food, medical care, surroundings, all of it. It’s all mine.”  
Ren’s hand slid lower and Poe panicked, trying desperately to fight the invisible hold on his body. “So afraid of me,” Ren murmured. “You were never afraid of Ben Solo.”  
“Ben Solo was my friend.” And he had been, up until the day Ben had pressed him against the wall of that early resistance base and gently kissed him. That was the best season either of them had ever had, up until Ben had come to tell him his parents were sending him away with his uncle. And then…  
“I hear your thoughts, Dameron. Ben Solo isn’t going to protect you.” Poe felt a tear slide down his cheek before Ren bent low and licked it off, straddling him.  
Ren’s long fingers moved to the bottom of Poe’s shirt. He raised his hand and called his weapon to his palm, engaging it.  
“Ben, please don’t—“  
“Shh.” Something acutely canine was alive in his face. “This is delicate.” He slipped the blade underneath of the thin shirt, burning a line directly through the middle. The stupid thing fell to pieces on either side of his chest, baring his body to this monster. The disengaged saber fell to the floor beside them.  
Poe couldn’t even turn his head as Kylo trailed his nose up the center of his throat, inhaling deeply before putting his lips to his skin. As soon as he had resolved to lie there like a dead man in hopes of ruining this, Ren bit down hard on the delicate spot right below the base of the collar. He flinched, bucking his hips hard. He was free of the Force hold, Poe realized. He began kicking his feet and tossing his head away from Ren.  
“Careful, pilot. Keep struggling and I’ll take that as a cue that you don’t want this to be easy.” Ren wrapped the chain twice around his fist and slid lower on his body. Poe fought for control, trying to breathe stillness into himself, just like he’d been taught to get through torture. This was the same concept—wasn’t it?  
“That’s better,” Kylo breathed. “If you take my attention away to keep you still, how will I focus on not hurting you?”  
“You are hurting me,” Poe grunted through clenched teeth. He used Kylo’s momentary pause to shift onto his side, taking the pressure off of his back, where the cuffs were starting to bite into his tailbone. Kylo tilted his head to the left, confused.  
“Oh!” He tapped a button on his comlink and the cuffs released his hands. Poe knew that he should take a swing, but he honestly wasn’t sure that his stiff muscles could manage it. He stretched both arms over his head slowly, exhaling through his nose. Kylo watched him intently.  
“Roll over.”  
“I will not!” Eyes averted, he heard Ren sigh once before the Force flipped him onto his stomach and held him there, still. He struggled internally, trying to make his muscles obey him.   
“Stop fighting me,” Kylo growled dangerously. “I’m trying to help you.” He dug his knuckles into Poe’s sore shoulder. The pain was so intense that he thrashed back instinctively, managing to shake the Force hold slightly. This only made Ren press harder. “Stop fighting me, Poe!”  
It was the sound of his name from the lips of the man who used to be Ben Solo that did it. Poe stopped his internal struggle, throwing his face forward onto the pillows as he felt his body slacken. Ren’s hands ghosted up his back before disappearing again. The remaining material of his shirt was pulled away, sliding as gently as possible over his sore arms. Ren’s hands returned, the heels kneading between his burning shoulders before slowly pressing outwards. Another tear escaped down his cheek, whether because this felt so good or because he was stuck here, he didn’t know. Ren’s gloved finger caught it as his other hand began to squeeze his shoulder.  
“You suffer so prettily.” Poe turned his head to glare at him, but Kylo shoved it back down, taking both of his hands to press from his shoulder to his neck. “I noticed it the first time we had you, you know, but I had other concerns that day.” Something dark had entered his tone. “When I saw you yesterday…” His hands moved to the other shoulder now, and Poe stifled a groan as his fingers prodded the stiff muscle. “When I saw you yesterday, the way you responded to the electrocution—I had to have you. Hux was only too happy to oblige.” Above him, Kylo snorted. “Although he’ll tell you he just wants to keep me occupied and out of his sight, he’s afraid of me this way. Much like you.”  
“I am not afraid of you, Ben.” The weight left his back as Kylo rolled off of him and the bed. He curled the gold chain around his hands again, almost idly.  
“You’re not?” Then the monster was in his head, pushing through his thoughts aggressively. “Ah, but you are. You’re afraid of Kylo Ren.” He yanked on the chain, making Poe pitch forward. “It really is a shame that you can’t learn my name, pilot. I was going to feed you.”  
“I’d rather starve.” The hollowness in his gut begged to differ, and he thought desperately of the refresher, and water.  
The man tilted his head again, as if trying to understand something.   
“Pride will get you nowhere here, pilot.”  
With his range of motion back in his arms, he made a show of bravado. “It seems to have worked for you. Supreme Ruler of yes-men, was it?” Kylo just continued watching him, as though he were mildly amusing. “Or is the First Order just composed of sociopathic adults who turned off the game board right before they were about to lose when they were kids? You seem like that type. Did you light a lot of fires? Torture animals?”  
“I promise you, pride did not put me here, but shame and suffering did.” Poe recoiled under his gaze. “And yes, actually. I even wet the bed as a child, in addition to animal torture and pyromania. See there, I fulfill every segment of the homicidal triad. Does that make you feel better or worse? You fell in love with that boy.”  
“Ben Solo was not--”  
“Ben Solo was exactly that, you idiot. Totally incapable of feeling even an inkling of whatever teenage crush you nursed for him.” He yanked on the chain again until Poe was eye level with his chest. “Now, say my name, and you can eat and sleep to your heart’s content, and I’ll even leave the room tonight.”  
Poe considered. He was exhausted and hungry and terrified, and the name really was a small concession to pay to get rid of him for the night. He leaned forward.  
“Your name is…” The thing that used to be Ben Solo came closer. Poe swung his head at the last second, connecting with Ren’s mouth viciously. It made him see stars.  
Ren cursed and pushed him away with the Force, immobilizing him as he mopped his bloody mouth. “Stupid, stupid resistance scum.” He called his lightsaber to his hand from the table, and Poe was quite sure he’d finally met his end. Instead, Ren slammed the thing into the wall behind him, showering his bare skin with sparks.  
“Lesson one,” Kylo hissed, dropping his hold on Poe so he fell to the floor. He pressed the heel of his boot into his back. “Make me happy, and I’ll give you everything you want. Displease me, and you’ll find out just how cruel I can be. You’ll miss your friends from the holding cell.” There was a hissing noise and then his arms were tugged roughly behind him and back into the cuffs.  
“Fuck you, Ren.”  
The man only laughed. “I wouldn’t speak anymore, unless you’d like me to grant your request.”  
Poe clamped his jaw, trembling with rage. Kylo walked across the room, pulling him by the chain as if he were weightless. He was strong, much stronger than Poe had realized, even without the Force. The chain pulled at the collar around his neck as Ren threw it up and over a low beam in the corner. He caught it again and looped it twice more. Poe staggered beneath it. It was short enough to keep him just shy of standing comfortably—his toes skimmed the floor. The knight moved behind him and fiddled with the cuffs before throwing a second loop over his head to the beam. He stood back to survey his work.  
Poe Dameron, the poster boy of the resistance, was now suspended from the ceiling, just high enough that his toes skimmed the ground. To keep from choking, he had to lean forward, putting the strain on his arms, which were already pulled level with his shoulder blades. Ren smiled and ran a gloved finger lazily over the lip Poe had just busted, pulling it away to look at the blood. Something gave in the chains and Poe stood up and glared at him challengingly.  
“Hmm, can’t have that.” Kylo called something from the next room and knelt behind him again. Now Poe had his feet drawn behind him—there was nothing he could do against the Force—and now he was just barely resting on his knees. His thighs were already starting to burn from the strain, but leaning back to relieve them made all of his weight pull on his sore arms.  
“Remember, pilot, it didn’t have to be like this. And don’t think I’ll tire of it. Both scenarios are equally enthralling to me.” Poe looked away, afraid that if he opened his mouth he’d start begging. He did not beg these people, who had murdered his parents, for anything. Ren smiled again, bringing a bottle of water to his lips. He took three long gulps and rested the cylinder on the table, directly in Poe’s line of vision. “I have a meeting,” he said lightly. “Enjoy. You might want to thank your precious general for keeping you all so thin. Maybe your arms will still be in their sockets when I get back.”   
At first, Poe tried to keep time by the clock built into the bedroom wall, but eventually the numbers blurred and faded away into nonsense. He tried to think of the last time he’d eaten—on the ship, it had to have been on the ship, probably gagging down one of those already prepared portion packs he hated. He’d lick the wrapper for crumbs now if he could. Eventually, the I’m Hungry fathier in his mind’s race was passed by a fathier by the name of Thirsty. He watched the droplets of condensation roll down the side of Ren’s water bottle as his lips grew dry and cracked. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. It occurred to him that he’d not used a refresher all day, and that could not bode well.  
He looked desperately at the clock again, trying to remember. When had Ren left? 4? 5? The clock now read 2:00. In the morning. It was dark, the lights in the outer room dimmed. Surely Ren had to come home sometime, surely even a minute portion of him that was still human needed sleep. Sleep. If he could just sleep, this wouldn’t have been so bad. As it were, he couldn’t sleep in this position. He was either actively trying to give his screaming arms a rest, or his legs. He wasn’t aware human muscles could experience this much fatigue. In fact, he was growing quite certain that unless Ren came back soon, his arms really would leave their sockets.  
Two hours later (if his fuzzy mind could be counted upon) the door slid open, bathing the room in the bright lights of the corridor. Poe looked away, wincing at the bright light. He heard footsteps and a brief rustling, and then Ren was there standing over him. He looked almost as exhausted as Poe felt, with deep circles under his eyes, skin even paler than usual. Quietly, he surveyed him, face giving away nothing.  
“Are you ready to get down?”  
Poe nodded. He couldn’t even lift his head. Kylo stepped behind him.   
“This is going to hurt.” He must have unleashed whatever tethered his arms to the beam, because they came free when he released the cuffs. Poe made some unfamiliar, guttural noise that he couldn’t quite believe was his own. It was like trying to bend an arm the wrong way, forcing them back into normal position. Kylo reached above his head and released the chain from the beam. It clattered to the floor. Poe collapsed, his spent legs shaking.   
“Can you stand?” Poe leaned over and retched, his empty stomach giving nothing. Vaguely, he heard Ren mutter, “That’s a no.” Ren’s footsteps grew more distant, and then Poe heard the sound of rushing water. That reminded him of his insane thirst, and he swiped in the direction of the table.  
“Kylo.” His head was pounding now, making everything swim. Ren returned and hefted him into a chair near the table. A bottle of water and two portion pack crackers sat there. Poe grabbed for them desperately, and Ren caught his arm roughly.  
“Stop. Half the water. Both of the crackers. If you keep that down, I’ll give you more. If you drink more than I told you to, you get no more. Okay?”  
“Yes.” This was barely more than a croak. Kylo released his arm and watched him eat. The water was room temperature, something he normally would have hated, but it went down easier that way. Ren must have known this, and Poe wondered how many people he’d done this to before. The headache receded enough for him to pry his fingers from the water bottle. Ren nodded approvingly and slapped two portions on the table, each already made.  
Those went down easy enough, but he slumped over the table after that, full despite having been fantasizing earlier about eating one of the imaginary fathiers. Kylo stood up and pulled gently on the chain. “Can you walk now?”  
His legs were still shaking. “No.”  
“Can you crawl?”  
Immediately, his brain bounced in his skull. Maybe he’d give him more water.   
“Yeah.” He followed behind Kylo, shoulders still burning. They went through the refresher doors. The taps to a huge bath tub turned off as they entered. Kylo reached back and pulled his own shirt over his head. Poe blanched a little at all the scars that created a map across his skin. This was not the body he had last seen Ben Solo in. Looking sour, Ren snapped his fingers.  
“Come here.”  
Now Poe was nervous. He’d imagined having Ben back so many times before, but not like this.   
“No.”  
“Was lesson one not good enough? Because I can think of something remedial for it. Either you come here and do what I ask you to do, in which case you can get in that really hot bath tub and soak your muscles—I know you have to be in agony—or you can refuse me, and I’ll put you in an ice bath, which does not feel good, and then you can go right back where you were for another day.”  
Poe stared at him in shock. “You left me there for an entire day?”  
“Was the lesson learned?” Every word was threatening. Poe knew he wouldn’t survive another two days in that corner, definitely not now. He crawled to Kylo, feeling more humiliated by the minute, although that compared little to the next feeling when Ren said: “Undress me.”  
“Ben…Kylo, please, can I just…” He looked longingly at the bathtub, tears of rage threatening to fall. Ren put a gloved hand under his chin.   
“So beautiful when you suffer. But I think you’re crying from humiliation and rage more than actual fear.” Poe jerked his chin away. “Come on, pilot. There’s plenty of older, meaner, uglier men and women on this ship that would have liked to had you. Aren’t you grateful that I’m not old or ugly?”  
Poe huffed a laugh. “Not really. I would have been able to pity you then. Thought that you were just lonely or desperate. Not that you aren’t both of those things, but you also live to take. You’re cruel.”  
Ren threw back his head and laughed, really laughed. The sound sent him back to that sweet summer season and something twisted in his chest. “I am going to punish you for that later, but you’re brave, I’ll give you that. Now undress me.” Poe placed his hands on Ren’s bootstraps. “With your mouth.”  
He wasn’t going to plead, wasn’t going to give Ren the satisfaction. He took the strap in his teeth and pulled, sliding the boot off into his hands. He repeated the process with the next one, and then looked up at Ren desperately. The Supreme Leader extended his hand to Poe, who bit down on the tip of the middle finger of his glove and pulled it off. Poe spat the last glove on the floor and looked at the pile of robes Ren had discarded when he walked through the door.   
“Why do you wear so many kriffing clothes?”  
For the first time, Ren looked discomfited. “I don’t like being looked at.” He tapped his pants. “So close, little pilot.”  
“Ben, please…”  
“Ben Solo isn’t here. And you have exceeded the limits of my patience already today.” Poe choked back a strangled scream and sat up on his knees, resting either hand on Ren’s hips. It was harder than it sounded; he brought his teeth to the button and pulled, but it didn’t give. It took him a ridiculously long time to get it undone, and then he shook as he reached for the zipper with his lips.  
“You’ll get better at it,” Ren murmured. He stepped away from Poe and out of his pants, turning to dangle a hand in the bath tub. “Lose yours.”  
Poe blushed, and then shook himself. He wasn’t a doe-eyed virgin. How many times before had he ditched his clothes carelessly, jumping into bed or a shower, or even one memorable time in the snow, with a lover? He had always been attractive, Ben was gone, and everyone in the resistance had been looking to let loose—side effect of potential death coming at you every day. He’d be damned before he let weird-ass, big eared, Ben freaking Solo intimidate him. No matter what he had become. At least not here. He stepped out of his pants, his thighs protesting the movement, and flipped himself into the tub.  
“Oooh.” It felt so good, so human, to be in a bath that he didn’t even consider pretending not to like it. Ben got in after him.  
“You could have things like this all the time, if only you’d—“  
“Be your slave.” Poe shut his eyes and leaned back against the ledge. “Is there any more water?”  
Ren stretched his arm over the side and called a new bottle to him and passed it to Poe. “Love me, fear me, and I will give you everything.”  
“Then let me go.”  
Kylo chuckled. “Everything you could want with me, I should say.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is cursed. It printed out on my work printer (in my personal office, thank God), disappeared from my flash drive not once but twice (I can't even tell you which draft this is), and when I FINALLY went to post it yesterday, AO3 was down.   
> So PLEASE enjoy. If you don't, don't tell me. I might cry. And I don't even have feelings. Lol.  
> In all seriousness, I know that we're waiting for that lightsaber scene, but the time isn't right yet. With stories like this, it's really important to me to have the characters progress to certain points naturally. And I think we all know our proud *Captain* Dameron isn't going to bend easily.  
> May the Force be with you!  
> *posts without preview*

For the first few days following his ordeal, Kylo was surprisingly gentle with Poe. After carrying him out of the bathtub that night, he’d left him in his bed and disappeared for all the nights after that. Poe took a day to lie in the huge bed and mull over his situation while his body healed. The Resistance wasn’t coming for him, that was certain. He wouldn’t want them to either. They were decimated enough as it was. All this meant was that he had two options—escape or appeal to Ben.   
He didn’t want to appeal to Ben. Poe had combed every inch of the suite, trying to find a way out. There was nothing. Ren didn’t even have an escape launch, probably for this very reason. On the third day after his ordeal, Poe crept around the apartment, looking through Ren’s things. There was nothing personal around at all, except for at the man’s desk. He had an affinity for handwriting, something not many people practiced anymore.  
Poe turned one of the heavy pieces of parchment over in his hands, which still bore marks from being bound. The writing on the paper was artfully done with delicate twists. The notes were nothing of consequence, consisting mostly of sporadic phrases and ship names. He lifted the heavy pen from its inkwell and put it experimentally to the paper. Instantly, he could tell that this was not an action to be performed, but a skill to be learned. His writing was rudimentary at best and looked sloppy and childish next to Ren’s. Poe crumpled it up in frustration.  
“That’s expensive, do you mind?”  
Kylo had walked in just in time to watch him toss the paper ball. Poe blushed but didn’t back down.  
“Too much for the Supreme Leader of the galaxy?” He didn’t get up out of Ren’s chair.   
Kylo raised the corner of his mouth in semblance of a grin. “Okay. Then it’s very difficult to come by, could you not ruin it?” The ship lights dimmed slightly in a feeble attempt to mimic a circadian clock. Poe glanced upwards, frowning.  
“You’re staying here tonight?”  
Ren’s eyes flashed. “Yeah. I am.” He tossed his cape over a chair. “It’s my room. I do occasionally like to sleep.” Sarcasm coated his words.  
The snark was irritating. “Funny. It was starting to feel like my room.” He casually crumpled another piece of Ren’s precious paper.   
“I guess I’m going to have to lock that up too,” he muttered.  
“Oh, you do have personal possessions? That’s a relief. I was starting to think you had no hobbies.”  
Kylo rolled his eyes, but his leg was bouncing, betraying his impatience. “You’re a personal item,” he said maliciously. “Come here.”  
He didn’t’ want to give in to Ren, but Poe had no desire to end up back in chains for days again. Instead, he compromised by pushing the chair out and standing as slowly as possible. It reminded him painfully of being a child, and dragging his feet when he didn’t want to go to bed. Those days were long gone.  
The Supreme Leader rolled his eyes and jerked on Poe’s chain, making him stumble and fall.  
“Don’t get up.”  
Poe lifted his face to Kylo in disbelief. He sat down on the bed, his expression unyielding.  
“I’m teaching you something. Crawl here.”  
This wasn’t the most humiliating thing he’d ever had to do, Poe reminded himself. Taking a deep breath, he crawled across the hard floor to Kylo’s feet. The sight of the man’s boots made him flush with embarrassment, thinking of undressing Ren earlier that week. He quietly asked the Force, the Maker, anyone who might be listening to spare him that again.  
“Now stand up and turn around.” Kylo leaned over, running his hand over the muscled expanse of Poe’s back. He flinched, hating the skin to skin contact. Why couldn’t he at least leave the damn gloves on?   
“I can hear you, you know.” Ren’s voice was quiet as he slid he hands into the waistband of Poe’s loose pants and pulled them down and off. Now he stood stiffly in underwear in front of his personal monster. “Get back down,” Kylo said in the same soft voice.  
“Fuck you, Ren.” That was as eloquent as he could be as he dropped back to his knees.   
There was silence from behind him, and Poe dared to look over his shoulder. There was a scary blankness on Kylo’s face that Poe instinctively knew to avoid. “Hey. You still with us, Supreme Leader?”  
Ren’s head rose, as though just noticing him. “Of course. I was just thinking of something.”  
“Ben Solo and I on the Falcon?” Poe spoke without thinking. The emotion that the sentence stirred was terrible. He remembered their nervous laughter and the feeling of sneakily getting away with something, anxiety and fumbling, and the sweaty, satiated payoff of Ben’s damp curls on his chest. They had felt so proud that day, complete in themselves.   
He thought he’d been in love.  
Apparently not. He remembered Ren’s words about Ben Solo: Totally incapable of feeling even an inkling of whatever teenage crush you nursed for him. That had hurt far worse than anything else.  
“What did I tell you,” Kylo forced his arms behind his back, snapping unseen binders around his wrists, “about saying that name?” He punctuated the last word by pressing the heel of his boot into Poe’s spine, making him pitch forward onto the floor. There was blood in his mouth—he’d bitten his tongue—but he swallowed it as he turned around and scooted backwards away from Ren.  
“Don’t touch me,” he warned. Ren was resting his chin on his folded hands, watching him in a bemused sort of way. His head tilted a notch to the right.  
“I don’t understand,” he finally said, his deep voice pensive. The marked change from anger to sullenness was concerning.  
Poe felt entirely wrong-footed. “Understand what?” He pulled on the binders quietly. Nothing.  
“Your line of thinking. I thought we understood each other. You’re so content to slide back into this childish behavior, like you learned nothing.”  
“I’m older than you,” Poe intoned in annoyance. His ill use made him feel like a six year old in a play yard, stamping and shouting that he was bigger, and it wasn’t fair for him to lose like this.  
Kylo ignored him. “You found Ben Solo so enthralling, but you’re repulsed by me.” He began to wind the thick gold chain around his forearm, reeling Poe towards him. When he resolutely planted himself on the ground, the prick used the Force to drag him even closer. “But just because you don’t like what I do.”  
“I think it’s a little bit more than that now, to be fair.”   
“Not because you don’t find me attractive,” Kylo said, as though he hadn’t heard him. Poe was now kneeling directly in front of the insane man. He could put his head in his lap. Critically, he looked up at Ren, trying to consider him from an outside perspective. While technically Kylo was more pretty than handsome, there wasn’t any reason to deny that he was good looking. Poe’s focus slid from the man’s hungry, big eyes to his full mouth. For a split second, he lingered on those lips, letting his mind descend to dirtier pursuits.   
“Hmm.” He wrenched his eyes away when he felt the familiar keening, like a ship splitting along its hull, which let him know Ren was traipsing through his mind again.  
“Stop it.” Poe jerked his head irritably, as though Kylo were like an irksome fly that he could unseat. Surprisingly, Ren ceased his digging. But it left Poe feeling busted and used, and turned his mind into an empty thing that no longer belonged to him.  
“I would gladly stay out of your head if you’d tell me what I want to hear.” He put his hand on Poe’s cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip. “I know it’s uncomfortable—“  
“No, you don’t know!” Poe tossed his head to shrug off Kylo’s hand. “How could you, mighty Kylo Ren? With all that supposed power, why turn it inward? Just because you’ve never met anyone that could give you a taste of what you dish out…” Poe trailed off. “Oh, but you have.” He struggled to his feet, unbalanced by the binders, so that he could lean into Kylo’s ear.  
“I hope Rey breaks your mind open like an egg,” he hissed. “I hope she picks it apart, piece by piece, until you’re whimpering on the floor.” He pulled away from Ren’s neck to look at his expression. Real, genuine fear in this dark eyes. And then—  
“I’m going to speak quickly, for your sake. Please remember that I did.” Poe was hoisted into the air by the damned Force, and then he was choking. For a second, he thought it was the collar around his neck, but it was loose. With dawning horror, he focused on Kylo’s outstretched hand and realized he was being Force choked. Nothing to fight off, no way to release the vise…with his hands in the binders, he couldn’t even claw at his own throat.  
“Thank you for your attention.” Kylo walked in a circle, slowly spinning Poe to stay in his line of sight. “Now, use your brain. Quickly! I was taught this power by someone who practiced it on me. So don’t tell me that I have no idea how it feels.” Poe couldn’t say anything, only blink.  
“And as for the scavenger…she will never best me, because she is afraid of the dark side, of her own power. So don’t presume that she’ll save anyone, much less you, from me.” He stopped circling Poe and stood in front of him. “Do you understand?”  
His vision was spotty now, almost entirely gone, but he managed to nod.  
“Good.” The hold on his body was released and Poe crumpled to the ground. The rush of air felt like a godsend, but it gave him a huge headache. He winced and doubled over, coughing. Kylo didn’t even look at him.  
“Get out of my sight.” When he didn’t move fast enough, Kylo stomped his foot. “Now!”  
Determined to get away from this man, this monster, Poe managed to stagger into the next room.  
**********************************************************************************************************************  
He was bored. And hungry and pissed off, but mostly bored. Poe had spent the better part of the evening hiding out in the front room of Ren’s quarters, annoyed by the perfect monochromatic decoration. Even angry hot heads can only stay mad for so long before that weak, sweaty feeling hit like a breaking fever. Ren still hadn’t emerged from his lair.  
Back to fight the rathtar then, Poe thought drily. He hoisted himself out of the chair and peered cautiously around the doorway.  
Most of the lights were dimmed, apart from two exceptions. One bright space illuminated the desk with Ren’s precious paper. The other was over the bed, where the Supreme Leader was sitting. The man’s left palm was stretched out underneath of his lightsaber, which was floating in pieces midair. Every few seconds, Ren would move his right hand and the parts would shift in response. With a look of intense concentration, he slid a smaller piece into the main body of the weapon. It was fascinating to watch, almost fluid.  
“The pilot wants to talk,” Kylo said, still not looking at him. He crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees, a piece of wire between his teeth. Poe shrugged.  
“The pilot wants to talk,” he agreed. Kylo nodded and reattached the wire to the outside edge of the saber. He twisted the fingers of his right hand and the entire thing reassembled itself. It dropped into his lap.  
“I didn’t know you made them,” Poe said quietly. In all the stories he had heard about the Jedi, they seemed to come into being holding a lightsaber. He’d never considered that they’d have to be repaired…  
“You think this is something I could order?” Kylo shook his head. “Come here.”  
Poe walked to him, intrigued against his will. He knelt at Ren’s feet. For whatever reason, it made him feel less vulnerable, being closer to the ground. He casually crossed one leg over the other.   
Kylo spun the lightsaber playfully in his hands before uncrossing his legs and putting both feet on the floor. He held it a little below his belt.  
“The bond between a J—Force user and their weapon is sacred. Anyone with even rudimentary skill can wield one, but it works best if your kyber crystal knows you. Allowing another person to use your weapon is a serious act.”   
“I’ll be sure not to touch it then.” Poe looked away, feigning disinterest.  
Kylo grimaced. “So difficult.”  
“Rethink your technique.”   
Ren jerked on the chain, pulling Poe to his feet. He lowered him into his lap.   
“You say that so often,” he murmured. “I wonder if you mean it.”  
His pulse was hammering its way through his veins. He couldn’t stand how nervous it made him to have his back to Ren, or the fear that snaked up his spine. There was a slight increase of pressure around his wrists and the binders released him. Now his back was pressed against Ren’s chest, where could, believe it or not, feel the man’s heartbeat. Starved for human contact, he allowed his body to mold into Ren’s.  
Kylo’s hands slid down his chest and onto his thigh. He pressed his lips to Poe’s shoulder. Then his neck. He leaned his head back, offering him more of his skin. Ren’s teeth tugged at his ear, then his lips fluttered hungrily along his jawline.   
Poe’s eyes slid closed and he cautiously lifted his hands to run up either side of Kylo’s neck, into his hair. It was longer than he remembered it from their past time together, but just as thick and still gently curling on the ends. He even smelled the same, right on his skin, something warm and spicy and…like home. That scared him for a minute. Had he lost all sense of Yavin 4 and Chandrilla that Kylo Ren was all that reminded him of it now?  
“You…” Kylo used his hand to turn Poe’s face towards his and kiss him. It was like being back on the Falcon with Ben again, the taste delicious. They broke apart and Poe was once again in the arms of his enemy on a First Order ship, stars knew where. “You think about home?” Kylo sounded surprised.  
“Do you?” He took a deep breath as Ren’s hand slid down his throat and onto his chest. The long fingers trailed towards his hips. There was no denying that this could set him off, but Poe was just desperate enough to try it.  
“Not often. To what end?” Ren squeezed Poe’s thigh, and he let his legs fall open ever so slightly. His finger’s caught Ren’s earlobe and tugged on it gently.   
“You never miss being on planet? Actual dirt. Sunlight.”  
“The statues.” Poe froze and then brought his lips to Kylo’s again.   
“I haven’t thought of those in ages.” He and Ben had spent hours playing in the center of Chandrilla, dodging behind the old trooper helmets painted with rebel symbols. They hadn’t been old enough to understand that someone must have once owned those helmets, that they played in a graveyard. Even the rebels had things to be ashamed of, the republic included.  
“Mmm.” Kylo leaned back and pulled Poe onto the bed. He flipped over and straddled him, hoping to forestall Ren’s proclivity for manhandling him. Kylo folded his arms behind his head and looked up at him through lazy, heavy lidded eyes.  
“It was so warm there, do you remember?”  
“The dirt stuck to everything,” Kylo mumbled, his expression far away again. “It was red.”  
Poe lifted the chain between them and tossed it over his shoulder. Ren pulled off his tunic and laid back again, the hard planes of his chest at odds with his strange, gentle expression. He placed his hands on Poe’s hips.  
“You’re trying to distract me.” Kylo smirked at Poe. “But it’s funny.”  
“Is it working?” Poe lay flat against Ren’s body, letting the man’s hands travel up his back.  
Kylo kissed him. “That depends on what you’re gunning for, pilot.”  
“Good,” Poe said boldly. He kissed him aggressively, teeth tearing at Ren’s bottom lip. Kylo returned with equal enthusiasm, fingertips digging into his spine and his tongue meeting Poe’s with a groan. So the man was still capable of being moved, then. He could feel his desire betraying him, pooling deep in his pelvis.   
Kylo sat up and pulled Poe closer to him. He was hard—Poe dropped his hand between them to grab at Ren’s length. He could feel his teeth on his neck…  
“Ben,” he whispered.   
He’d made a dreadful error and knew it. Kylo flung him so hard that he hit the floor, landing flat on his back. The motion stunned his body and he struggled to breathe, to pull air into his lungs. When Ren leaned over the side of the bed to look at him, the horrible blankness was back on his face.  
“Mistake, pilot.”  
Everything went black.  
***********************************************************************************************  
The ship gave a gentle lurch, making Poe’s head bump into his shoulder. He opened his eyes, hazily taking in the darkness around him. He was back in the damn corner again, strung up by his chain. His arms were bound behind him but, unlike the time before, they weren’t supporting his weight. There was a second chain—no a strap—bound around his waist, holding him upright. It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, and that gave him hope that Ren might not leave him here as long this time.   
“I can’t help you.” Ren’s voice made him jump. In the corner, the man was jabbing a finter at thin air, clearly arguing with something. He muttered something else and clenched his fist. Apparently done with his fit, he returned to his desk, breathing heavily.  
Poe licked his lips. Kriff, he was thirsty. He cleared his throat.  
“Ren.” He gave no sign he had heard him, keeping his attention trained on the papers on the desk. Now he was irritated and cold. “Ren!”  
There was no motion from the desk, but his bonds released him, save for the collar. He stood and shook out his legs, annoyed. Not only was he in the hands of a madman, but one in the throes of psychosis.   
Food was laid out on the table, long gone cold, but he was beyond caring. When he’d finished eating, he wandered over to Ren, still sipping on a bottle of water.   
“You have something to say,” Ren said quietly, not once looking up from his work. Poe leaned against the back of the chair, watching Ren’s deft fingers slide along the pen, forming letters.  
“What’s the point,” he asked, “with every technology available to you?”  
Kylo sighed and licked his lips. “Maybe that’s exactly the point.” He made bold, thin strokes as Poe watched. He suddenly felt bad for the crumpled paper from earlier.  
“Where’d you learn it?” Ren’s upper lip curled and he didn’t answer. Poe slowly reached around the chair and put his hand on Ren’s leg. He stiffened.  
“Can you show me?”  
Ren jerked on the gold links around his neck and pulled him forward on onto his lap. Poe gasped and dropped the water. It splashed across the floor.  
“Watch it!” Ren sighed in frustration and kicked the bottle, sending it towards the door.   
“I’m sorry,” Poe said out of habit. Not that he meant it.  
Kylo shook his head. “Never mind.” He wrapped his arms around Poe and put the strange pen in his hand. “Like this.”  
Ren guided him delicately, his wrist turning smoothly. When he couldn’t help him, he pulled the pen away and demonstrated. Poe scratched out his first two attempts in frustration.   
“Slower,” Kylo murmured. Biting his cheek, Poe managed to trace the letters out, flicking them a little too high at the ends. The Supreme Leader watched him quietly, his hands resting on the small of his back. “Good.”  
“You’re going to have to get better at lying if you’re going to deceive the galaxy.”  
“Is that what you think, my pet?” Kylo laughed softly. “I’m not lying. I want to make things better.” He bit down on Poe’s shoulder, not enough to hurt. “Take these off.”  
Poe cringed, but Ren was only holding out his arms. He tucked his fingers under the wrap and unwound it, letting his nails scrape gently at his skin. The next one came off just as easily.   
“You can be taught,” Kylo whispered.   
“Don’t flatter yourself, Ren.” Poe leaned forward and away from him, picking up the pen again. “All I’ve been taught is that if I don’t do what you want, you have a tantrum that usually results in—”  
“What?” Kylo’s voice was calm and even. “What, pilot? Have you not eaten? Did I leave you in that corner where I should have?” Poe’s hand slowed as he wrote. “No,” Kylo whispered. “I’m holding nothing over you right now, and yet you’re still obliging.”   
Poe felt nauseated. Kylo was right. Why had he come over here, if not for this? He was fed, he was relatively free…he could have easily drifted into the next room. Went to bed.   
But he came here.  
“Why?”   
Poe’s heart beat loudly. He had no doubt that Kylo could feel it. Something shuddered in his chest. With a shaky hand, he turned Ren’s arm over and wrote.   
Ben Solo.  
Kylo stared at the words on his arm for a minute, barely blinking. He took the pen from Poe’s grip and pressed it into his skin, letters grating against his flesh. He stifled a hiss.  
“Kylo…” He trailed off as Ren slapped his hand over his mouth. When he pulled the pen away, the beautiful lettering spelled out:  
Property of Kylo Ren. A tiny drop of blood pooled at the pointed end of the R.  
“Ben Solo is not here. And he never will be again.” Kylo stood Poe up and pulled him back down in his lap so that they were facing each other. “But I am.”  
Poe grasped Ren’s forearm and smeared the ink, blurring Ben Solo from existance.   
“I don’t understand,” he whispered. He realized he was begging for the first time and it killed him. But the realization also made something break a little inside of him, and it felt like a relief to let the dam blow. He felt within and without himself.  
“Poe, Poe…” Kylo was smearing the ink he’d put on Poe’s skin, almost absentmindedly. “I know you think that you’ll somehow resurrect your old friend, or love me into submission.” He smiled ruefully. “But it’s _not going to work_.”  
Poe lifted his eyes towards the ceiling, trying to force back tears of frustration. Kylo took advantage of his and kissed his exposed neck, lingering near his jaw.  
“If you’d let go of Ben and think only of me, we could be so happy.”   
Happy. A tear escaped, and he swiped at it with irritation, smearing more ink across his face. It was not going to get better.  
“Ah, Dameron.” Kylo pulled him closer, almost tenderly. “You’d feel so much better if you wouldn’t fight this so hard.”  
“Fight what?” Poe tried to insert some anger into his tone. His voice shook.  
“How much you want to please me. Just to be with me.”   
Poe let go of Kylo’s arms, smearing the Ben Solo away completely. He’d never felt so emotionally wrung in all his life. He was still crying when he grabbed Kylo’s face and kissed him.  
If he closed his eyes, if he breathed in the scent of his skin, Poe could forget that this wasn’t Ben. He even tasted the same. He squeezed Ren’s hips with his thighs, grinding against his pelvis. Kylo tipped his head back.  
“Poe,” he groaned. In the brightness of the overhead light, Poe could see that the ink had smeared to obscure half of Ren’s face, almost like he was wearing a mask. His hollow eyes deepened in color, gold flecks standing out. In quiet fascination, Poe dragged the his fingers through the ink, carrying the mess down to Kylo’s chin.   
“Bed, now.” There was the animalistic charge again, something inhuman in his tone. Poe didn’t even consider not going. He leapt from Ren’s lap and collapsed into bed, his desire moving from pleasure to acute need. Poe barely had time to appreciate how late it must be before Kylo was crouched over top of him on his hands and knees. He had to push himself up on his elbows to reach for Ren’s kiss, and he was sure he’d planned it that way.   
“Turn over,” Kylo panted. He scrambled to flip, getting his arm tangled in the heavy chain.  
“Damn,” he muttered, shaking it out. Kylo huffed and pushed something on the collar and pulled it off Poe’s neck. His hands went from his shoulders to his waist, and then there was nothing more shielding him from his old lover.   
“Let me,” Kylo muttered. He lifted Poe’s hips slightly, letting his hand slide over his ass. Poe let out a whooshing breath into the pillow. There was a brief moment in which Kylo fumbled for something behind him, and then slid his fingers into Poe.   
This wasn’t like their adolescent romps, when they were both still learning what they liked. Kylo’s lubed fingers teased him expertly, and he pressed himself towards him, wanting more. When Ren wrapped his hand around his shaft, he moaned and barely managed to stifle it against his arm.  
“Say my name and I’ll give you what you want, Pilot.” Kylo’s breaths were ragged as he leaned over Poe’s shoulder and spoke into his ear. He turned away childishly. Kylo’s slackened his grip and Poe whined. “Suit yourself.”  
He swallowed. He knew that Kylo had to be able to feel him throbbing with need—he was barely managing to support himself right now.  
“Kylo,” he whispered.  
“Louder, Poe.”  
“Kylo!” Humming deep in his chest with some sort of approval, Kylo slid his hard cock into him, so slowly Poe thought he would scream. He gently lifted Poe’s body with his thrusts. The drag against his prostate was driving him wild. Sensing this, Kylo increased his pace, rocking Poe’s body with his own desperation.  
When he came, Kylo leaned over Poe’s shoulder, snarling in his ear. His body quaked. Poe could feel him jerking slightly inside of him.   
“Kylo,” Poe whined, not caring how it sounded. To his relief, Kylo shoved him onto his side and wrapped his body around him from behind. Ren’s hands went back to Poe’s shaft. He shuddered.  
“Ben,” he moaned. “Ben—” Kylo’s free hand clamped over his mouth and his hand slowed. He whimpered into his palm.  
“Try again, Pilot. You know better than that.” His strokes were so slow. Poe twisted his hips, desperate for more friction, touch. Ren held him still with the Force.  
“Who do you belong to?”  
Poe turned his head back and forth, fighting the impulse. Kylo’s hand picked up speed. Every inch of their skin that touched felt like a whit hot iron had been pressed there.  
“Oh, brave one.” Kylo snickered into his neck. “You don’t have to be proud. You’re mine.” His thumb circled the tip.  
“K-Kylo. Please.”  
“That’s all you had to do.” Kylo’s clever, beautiful hands pulled things out of Poe that he didn’t know he was capable of. When he finished, Ren held his spent body and smoothed back his damp hair.  
The bed shifted as Kylo left. He heard the refresher door open and close.  
When Kylo returned, Poe was laying on his back, his right arm folded under his head. He didn’t resist as Ren pressed a cool cloth to his face and the rest of his body, patting delicately at his more tender areas. He slid over when Ren got back into the bed, feeling drowsy. Kylo clapped the collar back around his neck.  
“Do I have to?” He was so tired. He wasn’t going anywhere. Surely Ren knew that.  
“Yes,” he said simply. He finished sealing the lock and tossed the chain over the side of the bed. Poe sighed and curled onto his side.  
Sleep made all of the anger go out of Ren’s face. Poe watched him silently and reached out, brushing some of the ink off of his proud cheekbone. There he looked like Ben again. The boy’s eyes fluttered and he smiled drowsily at Poe.  
“Poe,” he whispered. There was a strange awareness in his expression.  
Poe blinked. “Ben?”  
Kylo reached out and touched Poe’s cheek and kissed him gently. For a second, he responded with enthusiasm, thinking he might actually have recovered a small piece of his friend. But then Ren pulled back. His hand tightened on Poe's neck.  
“Kylo.”  
He swallowed.  
"I know."


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely sinners,  
> I had great, fantastic visions of completing this work and posting it all at once, but more than forty pages of draft in, I've got to break it up somewhere. Thank you for your unending kindness and appreciation. Grad school, work, freelancing, and original work are munching my time, but rest assured this is one of my favorite projects and it will be done soon.  
> Also, my apologies for not as much smut as usual in this chunk. I'm ALWAYS here for smut, but you need only read some of my other things to see I'm not into porn without plot. So have a bit of both. (:  
> Stay thirsty, my friends, and may the Force be with you.

Over the course of the next interminable weeks, Poe realized two disturbing facts. One, he was losing all sense of time here, sequestered away in this dark corner of the ship. His days had devolved into long, boring stretches that were only briefly punctuated by Kylo’s coming and going. Whatever he was doing, it kept him away a lot. That made Poe uneasy at night, thinking of his friends in the resistance.  
The second, more disturbing fact was this—he had now begun to look forward to his time with the Supreme Leader. This realization took firm hold today, as Poe caught himself watching the clock. Ren had been gone for a day, and if he was coming back at all, it would now. The door opened, and everything he felt—excitement, loathing, fear…longing—must have shown on his face. Kylo smirked at him, not missing a single flicker in his emotional state.  
“Did you miss me, Pilot?” His tone was mocking, but underneath there was a tremor of hopeful sincerity. Poe refused to acknowledge it, having already lost enough pride for a lifetime. He crossed his ankles and leaned back in Ren’s desk chair, eyes closed.  
“Now that you mention it, not at all.” He had absolutely no leverage here, so he had to get his kicks where he could, even if busting Ren’s balls made teenage Poe shift uncomfortably inside him.  
A soft chuckle came from Ren’s direction, making Poe slit his eyes just a bit. Amused Ren was not to be underestimated. The man’s moods were always fluid, and entertainment could turn into full blown rage in an instant. Poe much preferred to see it coming.  
“That’s a shame,” Kylo said, his voice smooth. “Because if that were the case, I had a proposal that might make it better.” He waited for Poe to say something, but he kept his mouth firmly closed. “But if you’d rather stay here alone for weeks, be my guest.”  
Weeks. Kriff, that sounded like a long time. He gave his pride another minute before letting it go.  
“What kind of proposal?” He kept his same relaxed position in the chair, as though the answer didn’t matter to him at all.  
“Sit up and talk to me, and I’ll tell you.”   
Poe sighed and stood up. Ren was sitting at the table, his eyes trained on a datapad propped in front of him. There was a glass of amber liquor in his right hand that he was nursing, liquor Poe happened to know had been a favorite of Han Solo’s when they were kids. It was more than his life was worth to mention that, however. The only thing that pissed Kylo Ren off more than being reminded of Ben Solo was the thought of his father. Still fully dressed, Ren’s gaze ran over him pissily.   
“You know I don’t like that,” he said, taking a massive gulp of his drink. That being the fact that Poe was also fully dressed in clothes he’d conned Ren into getting for him in the lazy good humor that came after sex. It made him feel better, like he could walk out of here any time to be rescued and go home.  
“It’s kind of hard to keep track of what you don’t like, to be honest,” Poe said. “Pretty big list.”  
An unseen jerk on the chain around his neck, and Poe fell hard on his knees.  
“Then try to remember what I do like,” Kylo muttered. He barely flexed his hand, but Poe could feel fingers on his throat, his chest, even his cock. Poe struggled to not lean into it and the phantom touch stopped. “Smaller list,” Kylo said.   
“Right.” Poe licked his lips, trying to ignore the lust that Ren had just awakened in him. He reached for a portion pack to distract himself and settled into the seat opposite Ren. “Are you not going to eat?” Kylo shook his head slowly, refocused on the datapad. Poe rolled his eyes and peeled the cover off a second pack, activating it. When it was steaming he slid it in front of Ren.  
“Eat.”  
Kylo’s eyes met his, and Poe had the disconcerting feeling that Ben Solo was looking at him again, the monster on the outside unaccustomed to kindness and retreating. But he was gone in an instant, Kylo snapping coolly back in place as he popped some of the bread in his mouth. Everything about the way he ate was mechanical, animalistic. There was no pleasure in eating—it was just a means to survival for him.  
“You had a proposal.”   
Kylo finished chewing and swallowed, nodded. Poe focused on the movement of his throat, momentarily distracted.  
“I have an on-planet trip to make.” Poe’s head jerked up, hardly daring to believe it. “I want you to come with me.”  
“We would fly?” What a stupid question—of course they would fly. But Kylo, a pilot himself, seemed to understand the longing in the question.  
“Yes, pet. We’d fly.” Fly! He could leave this room, touch solid earth again, see people….that was where the thought derailed.  
“No.”  
“No?” Kylo raised an eyebrow. “Why?”  
“You’re not taking me out to display me. I’m not going to be the finest creature in your menagerie of slaves.”  
Kylo laughed. “You always did think highly of yourself, Poe.” He rubbed his jaw. “Firstly, you are my one and only.” Poe’s stomach flipped and he wondered how long he’d nursed the secret fear that Ren had someone else that he liked better that would render him unnecessary. “Second, I wouldn’t be that cruel unless you made me. I’m nothing if not possessive and you are mine and mine only.” Ren reached for Poe’s face and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Aren’t you?”  
All he had to say was yes, and he could go, he could leave. Poe could feel himself shaking a little at the prospect. Still, it hurt to force the words to the surface.  
“Yes,” he whispered. “I am.”  
************************************************************************************************************************  
“It’s going to hurt more if you don’t stop squirming. It’s hard to focus on holding you and do this as painlessly as possible.” Kylo was straddling him as he kicked and struggled, his forearm resting on Poe’s chest. Whatever happened, Poe could not allow that gun to go off near his skin. If Kylo injected that tracker, he would never be free of him. Get too far away, and they would blow him sky high. His wild escape plans for this trip would be ruined. Frantically, he bit down on Ren’s arm.  
Ren muttered something that sounded exactly like “fuck it” and wrenched Poe’s head back with his hair while bringing the gun to his neck. There was a sick popping noise and pain exploded down his neck into his shoulder. Poe yelped and rolled off the bed onto the floor as Kylo slid away neatly.  
“I told you to stop,” he said, eyes flashing with irritation. He was gripping his arm where Poe had bit him. “Now that’s going to ache the whole way there.”  
“Not going,” Poe spat. He willed the pain in his neck to subside, but it seemed to be blooming anew. The tracker/explosive combo was about the size of a child’s marble, and it did not feel good being forced into the layers of muscle. Kylo’s foot caught him in the side with a sharp kick, and he coughed and curled towards the ribs.  
“Don’t tell me what you are or aren’t going to do.” He squatted over Poe, looking annoyed. Poe flinched as his gloved hands reached for his throat.  
“Don’t--!”  
“Be quiet,” Kylo muttered, eyes closed. “I’m trying to concentrate.”   
Poe jerked, preparing to spew more venom, but then the pain lessened. Kylo’s hands were right next to his face, barely moving as he muttered to himself. Then the hurting stopped altogether. Poe brought his hand to the side of his neck.  
“How…?”  
“Just shut up and get ready.” Poe glanced disdainfully at the tunic that had been laid out for him. It wasn’t the First Order clothes that were getting under his skin. It was the silver cuffs at the end of each sleeve, marked symbols that revealed him for what he was, or wasn’t. Putting on his own chains was worse than having someone else clap him in binders.  
“We’re late.” General Hux strode through the doors like Kylo hadn’t thrown lesser men out unconscious for the same stunt. “I’m going to have to reschedule one of these meetings to make up for the time, can you tell me which—“ He pulled up short at the sight of Poe, and crossed his arms over his uniform and frowned. It did nothing for him, Poe thought savagely.   
“Do you have to bring your dog?” Hux wrinkled his nose slightly, glowering at his Supreme Leader’s back.  
“Well, I’m bringing you,” Kylo muttered, fastening his lightsaber to his belt. Poe gave an unwilling huff of laughter that made the general go purple with rage. Kylo threw him a sharp look.  
“Enough.” He pointed at Hux. “Cancel whatever will take the longest with the biggest group of idiots and work from there. I’m sure you know what kind of people I’m talking about. Bureaucrats…” Ren let his unimpressed gaze linger over the general’s impeccable uniform and rank insignia. “Like you.”  
Hux had been at the receiving end of Ren’s powers, that was obvious. Poe watched him swallow with effort and clear his throat, absolutely livid. His tone was even when he spoke again.  
“As you wish, Supreme Leader.” He paused at the door. “Will you be joining us in the captain’s lounge?”  
Ren shot him a scathing look. “I’ll be with my men,” he snarled. “But please, make yourself comfortable.” He slid the door shut so hard behind the general that it bounced a little on its hinges.  
“Pilot?” Poe looked up at him nervously. “Come here.”  
The chain was gone from around his neck, but he felt ten times the weight of it in the few steps it took to reach Kylo. He braced himself for the impact of a slap, maybe the rushing terror of a Force inflected toss. It didn’t come. Ren pulled him flush against his chest, and Poe could feel the strength of him through the layers of thick fabric, all sinewy muscle forged from too hard of a life. The taller man bent his head so that his lips brushed Poe’s ear as he spoke.  
“You are getting comfortable with me.” His voice sent goosebumps down Poe’s neck. “And that’s good. I want you to love me. However—“ Ren’s lips moved away from Poe’s ear, but his voice echoed clearly inside his head.  
You are trying to be familiar with Ben Solo. It was like he was screaming in his ear—the room trembled around them with Ren’s rage. He struggled in Kylo’s arms, but he held him firm. Listen to me when I say this, Poe. He’s not there. You can keep laughing at my jokes and looking out of the corner of your eye, but I am all you have. If I continue to feel you pining for him, especially when you pull stunts, I will open up your mind. I will find every fear that you have, everything you dread I’ll do, and I will make it a reality. I want you to know—  
“--me.” Kylo pulled out of his mind with dizzying speed, holding Poe upright when one knee gave way. “Do I make myself clear?”   
“You said my name.” Poe wasn’t sure why he was pushing him like this. Maybe it was the fear turning his gut or just pure rage that his newly installed explosive meant he had nothing to hope for or lose anymore. Either way, he raised his chin until he was looking up at Kylo. “I like it when you call me Poe.”  
He could see Ben’s pulse fluttering on his neck. His dark eyes darted around the room before he turned away.  
“Just be ready to go, Pilot.”   
*******************************************************************************************  
It was dazzlingly unreal to be allowed out of the room, to be around other people. Poe turned his head this way and that, trying to drink in every bit of detail he could. Turbolifts shot upwards around them as officers jogged by in a flurry of activity. Whatever trip Ren had planned, it was big. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he thought of what that could mean for the Resistance. For his family. His steps faltered as they came into the hanger.  
This was the last place he had been a free man, managing to get in one punch before they’d scraped him out of his ship and onto the floor. Before they’d taken him down below to holding….Poe shook his head, freeing himself from those thoughts. Unlike the resistance hangers, which reeked of grease and smoke and whatever rust buckets they could get their hands on after the decimation of the republic, the Supremacy’s hanger hissed with high tech efficiency. Droids whizzed by, preparing several squadrons that Poe assumed would be their escorts. He’d flown one of those TIE fighters before, and it was enthralling, assuming you could forget who favored them. And Finn had been there…  
“Hey,” Kylo said warningly. “Don’t embarrass me, pet.” Poe swallowed back the confusing tears thinking of home had brought on and said nothing, choosing instead to glare at the passing stormtroopers. Kylo’s hand gently pushed him up the walk and into the ship. To his horror, he realized that he’d been here before. This was Ren’s personal command shuttle, where he’d faced the boy he used to love in all his menace. Unfortunately, his powers had not been exaggerated.   
There was that odd knocking in his head again, and Poe stifled a groan as Kylo picked over his thoughts and feelings. He had hoped to grow used to it, but it hurt, every time.  
“Words are rewarded,” Kylo murmured. “Make me go digging to find things and it’s going to hurt. I’m even trying to be gentle.” Poe turned his head peevishly, still angry about the trace bomb and their resulting fight. His hand was firm on Poe’s back. “Maybe I won’t be later, then,” he muttered in response to his silence. His stomach dropped again.  
Around them, people were living their lives without a care in the world, at least from Poe’s perspective. Two stormtroopers, obviously content that their captain was far away, were sniggering over something in the corner. A couple of older officers saluted Ren as he went by, the man’s hand shaking when he lowered it. The best was the young lieutenant who smothered a death stick by pressing the lit point into her palm when she saw them approach. Poe had to give her credit—she didn’t flinch.   
“If Hux had seen that,” Kylo said to him in a low voice, “he would have had her snatched off that seat so fast her head would spin.” Poe didn’t say anything, letting Kylo continue to speak into the empty air. “As if he doesn’t have a pack in his pocket at all times.” The Supreme Leader rolled his eyes and keyed an entry code into a set of doors.   
These rooms were so much smaller that Poe felt a little panicked when he considered being shut away again. He opened his mouth, and then remembered he wasn’t speaking. Kylo raised his eyebrows and shoved him through the door, bumping him with his hip.   
“Don’t act like this. You were doing so well.”  
Poe sighed and flung himself onto the room’s bed, face-down in the pillow. He knew that he’d pay for this behavior later, but pissing him off was worth it.   
“Master.” Poe lifted his head from the pillow and rolled over. Not only was he sure that Kylo wasn’t wearing the helmet, but also that he’d never call anyone else “master” again. In the doorway between rooms, a figure was kneeling at Ren’s feet, her nose and mouth ensconced in a half-mask. She had odd markings, golden tattoos, around her exposed eyes, but was definitely human. And she was looking at him.  
“Yours?”  
“Mine,” Kylo confirmed, looking over his shoulder at Poe with the kind of consternation one reserves for a misbehaved pet. Poe wondered what it was about him that so clearly screamed that he was here against his will. Apart from the silver bracelets (cuffs) around his wrists, there was nothing that would distinguish him from anyone else aboard the ship. The woman’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t read her expression. The look disappeared quickly, and she turned back to Ren.  
“It’s been too long, master.” Kylo nodded slowly, clearly struggling with something. His arm circled his left side, favoring a right stance. “I felt you earlier, I thought something had delayed you.” There was no mistaking it this time—Ren shot her a scorching look.   
“That’s enough.” He ran his hand through his hair anxiously. “Where are the others? Bring them.” The woman nodded and cast one more curious look at Poe before she left. Kylo lingered.  
“You’re spoiled.” Ren leaned over him and Poe steeled himself to not flinch. With a small remote, the wall beside the bed slid open to reveal the inside of the hanger. Once they launched, he would be able to see the stars for the first time in ages. But Ren pressed the button again, and wall began to fold itself down.   
“As always, Pilot, all you have to do is ask.” He tucked the remote into his pocket and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.   
He glowered. “I’ve gotten everything I want from you today.” The injection site on his neck was tender when he pushed on it, but nowhere near as painful as it had been before Kylo…  
What had he done?  
“Is that so?” He took Poe’s face with an iron grip and wrenched it towards him. “Everything you want from me?” He glanced down at Poe’s body, which he willed to stop shaking. Kylo’s irises had gone black and lifeless, and it never boded well for him. “Your clothes. Give them to me. They’re mine.”  
He wanted him to beg and plead, but he wasn’t. He had less than nothing to lose. It took forever to peel off the shirt, the jacket, and the pants. Poe wanted to see how much he could irritate Kylo in these few minutes. He handed over his clothes, and Ren’s eyes flashed.  
“Lie back. You won’t like it if I have to make you.” Poe slid backwards, but didn’t lean one inch. Snarling, Kylo laid him flat with the suffocating pressure of the Force, and then pressed his knee into Poe’s windpipe. His breath came in shallow gasps, Ren barely allowing him enough air to stay conscious. The same game over and over, bringing his body to its absolute limits and backing off just enough that he couldn’t even have the sweet release of unconsciousness.   
“Hands,” Kylo mumbled, then jerked Poe’s hands above his head without giving him time to decide to comply or not. The movement lessened the pressure on his throat, and he tried to take a deep breath without choking. The cuffs around his wrists must have been magnetized, because they stayed where Ren put them. When he noticed Poe’s small reprieve, he doubled down on the pressure, cutting off his airflow completely. For one heart-stopping moment, Poe thought he was actually going to kill him and then Kylo removed his knee. Stars burst in front of his eyes.  
“Hmm.” Kylo walked around the bed and slid a hand up Poe’s thigh. He shut his eyes, willing away the feelings that were being stirred in him. When Kylo’s hand encircled his shaft, his whole body almost jumped in response. “I don’t have much time, pet, since you insist on wasting it.” He teased Poe with long, languid strokes until he was twisting his hips to get away from him, or closer, he wasn’t sure which.   
“Well, Pilot, since you don’t want anything from me, I’ll be back later. To see what you want then.” He paused. “Unless you want to ask me to stay now.”   
Poe knew what he must look like, with his head tossed back and his skin flushed. But there was no way he was asking Ren for anything except—  
“Kylo.” The look of childish surprise again, that reminded him so much of Ben Solo. He almost looked elated, and Poe got the swift satisfaction of ruining it. “The viewport.” He forced out the second word. “Please.”  
Ren’s face was stony, but he pushed the button, letting the viewport open for him. And then he was gone.  
*************************************************************************************************************  
“What’s your name, slave?” It was the same female voice from earlier. Poe barley glanced at her before turning back to the viewport.  
“They didn’t give me one.” He was bored, he was thirsty, and he was not at all interested in talking to this woman. Knight of Ren. How fucking pretentious.  
“I didn’t ask you if he gave you a name, I asked you what your name is.” The bed shifted and he knew she had sat down next to him. The familiarity of it infuriated him. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Ren—must the entire galaxy see him like this?   
“Poe,” he said, hoping she would go away. “Poe Dameron.”   
“Poe Dameron, resistance pilot—commander, look at you!” He turned his head slightly to see her holding a datapad and flipping through his file. “Home planet...huh. I guess your parents were some big heroes for the rebellion?” She lowered her voice. “Governor Organa’s lap dogs?”   
She was needling him, and he wasn’t going to be her plaything.  
“He wouldn’t be happy to hear you talking about that.” Poe’s voice lilted up at the end, just enough to let her think he was actually stupid enough to mention it to Kylo.  
“You don’t have to threaten me, slave, I didn’t come here to hurt you.” She waved a cup in front of his face. “Let’s skip the part where you tell me you’re not thirsty, because you are, and when you still refuse the cup anyway, because I can see all over your pretty face that’s what you’re about to do.”  
Poe raised an eyebrow, but leaned forward and drank out of the cup as she tilted it back. When it was almost drained, he caught it in his teeth and tipped his head back to empty it. Then he slid back down in the blankets, which he’d managed to kick out from under him, since Ren didn’t have to courtesy to leave him with clothes. The girl’s golden tattoos moved with her eyebrows.  
“Why do you fight him so much?”  
“Are you kidding me?”   
The woman raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “No. I’m not.” She tapped the cuffs, making them buzz in annoyance. “I can tell you haven’t been in these for a while by how stiff you are, so I know you’re not always like this. And—“ Her fingers drifted down his neck. “Oh, kriff, that’s been recently implanted. That hurts like hell for weeks afterwards, and you’re not even flinching.” She stopped. “Ah.”  
“What?”  
“I just understood something I felt in the Force earlier. He healed you.”  
“Not likely.” Healing through the Force was unheard of, lost ages ago. But then again…Ben’s hands on his neck, and the mood afterwards. “Maybe.”  
“Master is strong with the Force, even stronger than I thought,” she mused. Poe looked at her wearily.  
“And you too, you…” He gave a jerk of his head that she interpreted correctly.  
“Yes.” She didn’t speak for several seconds, apparently basking in the glory of her precious master’s powers.  
“How did you know? About the water and the tracker and all of it?” He thought she’d blow the question off, but the golden tattoos crinkled when she smirked.  
“Not as dumb as I thought you’d be.” She fidgeted with the mask. “When I was young, I was captured and enslaved, like you.” Poe shot her a horrified look, and she quickly clarified. “No, no. Not exactly like you,” she said, glancing down at the bed. “Small planet, not large enough for the republic—“ she said, with disgust—“to think worth spending the resources to save. After my family was killed, and the Order long having moved past us, I was picked up by slavers.” She tapped her leg. “I’ll spare you the details. Luke Skywalker was looking for Force sensitive individuals, and managed to work out some deal to free me.”  
“You were in the academy with B—Kylo Ren,” he amended, taken aback by livid fear in her eyes.  
“Yes. But as much as Luke taught us, what he really wanted was for us to control ourselves, to completely shut off from the dark side. But that’s not how life works. And after a lifetime of servility, I wasn’t interested in continuing. So I followed my master.” Her eyes were bright with some violent memory.   
“You slaughtered the children at the academy, you mean.” Poe couldn’t have felt more repulsed if he tried.  
“No. It seems that Luke had begun to suspect that the dark had infiltrated his precious school. There were a few older students who had come to the same conclusion. Decided they’d take out those they’d already pegged as “problems” when the temple started to burn.”   
She reached behind her ear and unclasped the mask. Poe recoiled. The flesh had been melted off the right side of her face, so badly that he could see the whites of her teeth through the ragged cheek skin. On the other side, a messy lightsaber scar extended from the corner of her mouth to her ear. There was something wrong about the way her jaw hung, like it had been pulled from its hinge and never properly reset. Apparently she couldn’t talk without it on, because she tucked her chin back into the mask and refastened it before speaking again.  
“The Jedi, the republic, the resistance…you all decide who the bad guys are without trial. My master will see that scourge of self-righteousness snuffed out.” She stood, apparently done with her scary story.  
“So heed my words, Commander. He must like your temper, or you’d be dead. But stop fighting him. You’re having a tantrum over the tracker, but you couldn’t have hoped for escape before, either. You know this is it. You can stand with him, or you can make him kill you. Two choices, Poe.”  
************************************************************************************************************************  
The door opened, bathing him in a slim triangle of light. Poe blinked slowly, but didn’t turn his head. Ren dropped something on the floor and cursed under his breath. He still didn’t move. It must have been a good impression of sleep, because Ren jumped when he leaned over to find Poe’s eyes open.  
“I didn’t think you’d be awake.” He released Poe’s arms and he lowered them slowly, wincing. “Did you sleep at all?”  
“I wanted to see us make the jump.” Poe replied softly. He couldn’t get that woman’s voice out of his head. Or her mangled face.  
“Oh.” Ren glanced out the viewport. Poe watched as he glanced around the room, taking note of the water glass on the table. He shook his head. “I knew she wouldn’t leave it alone.”  
“I wish you would.”  
The bed shifted as Ren sat. “She scared you.” He couldn’t tell if his tone was mocking or concerned.   
“No.” Poe tucked his arm under his head.   
“Come here,” Ren said, pulling him into his lap. He let it happen, deciding he’d pressed his luck enough that day. Ren’s fingers found his hair and pushed it off his forehead slowly. Poe let his eyes shut, tipping his head back into Ren’s lap. Affection was so rare. He drank it in.  
“Are you going to tell me? Or make me get it?” Poe opened his eyes just a little.   
“Kylo…”  
“Now.” He continued stroking his hair with a firm hand.   
“One question first.”  
“Always so inquisitive.” Dangerous amusement crept into his voice, a predator toying with prey.  
“Did you heal me today?”  
Ren’s fingers stopped, but only for a second. “You did have a long talk with my knight.” He cupped his palm against Poe’s cheek and slid down to his neck, right where the tracker had been inserted. It was starting to ache again.  
“So you did?”   
Kylo’s eyes were huge in his pale face. “Not well,” he whispered.   
Poe’s stomach dipped. “What do you mean?”  
“It wasn’t right,” Kylo said. His hands shook a little in Poe’s hair. “There’s a way to do it correctly, but I don’t know…I found out I could do it when I was trying to save my own life.”  
“It’s painful, isn’t it? I could tell afterwards.”   
“Immensely. You have to constantly focus on the Dark.” Kylo took a deep breath. “At least to maintain it.”   
Poe sat up and pushed himself around to face Ren, crossing his legs.   
“You’re hurt, aren’t you? You’re doing it now. To yourself.”   
Kylo looked—there was no doubt—scared. He swallowed and took a deep breath. Poe counted to three before he exhaled. He was fascinated.   
“If I answer any of these questions—”  
“What? You’ll never let me go? You’ll have to kill me? What, Kylo?” Poe flinched as Kylo stood abruptly and began to undress. He backtracked, frightened. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”  
“Shut up,” Kylo snarled. He stripped off his shirt and turned around, exposing his back to Poe. “Just be silent for a few minutes, if you’re capable of it when you’re not pouting.” Poe clamped his jaw shut and sat, staring at Kylo’s scarred skin. It hadn’t been like that when they were younger. He took several slow, deep breaths and nothing happened for a few minutes, just the steady rise and fall of Kylo’s shoulders.   
It was slow at first—a blooming bruise across Ren’s back, traveling from beneath the right shoulder blade all the way to his left hip. It was black in some places, fading to yellow elsewhere. When Kylo’s knees began to shake, Poe got nervous.  
“Stop! Kriff, stop!” Poe slid off the bed and staggered nervously. “You’re going to die.” He hesitantly touched his shoulder, and Ren turned and grabbed him by the throat. His eyes were yellow-tinged again, and frightening. The pressure increased. He couldn’t breathe. Then, just like earlier, Ren dropped him on the brink of unconsciousness.   
Poe coughed on the floor, trying to get air back into his lungs. The great Supreme Leader of the First Order panted on the floor next to him. He reached for Poe, who scrambled away.  
“Pilot. Please. It was instinctive.”  
He massaged his throat, horrified. “Is that how you do it, you pull energy from other people?”  
“Not exactly. It’s your fear, rage, anguish. Things that fuel the Dark side.” Ren shuddered and reached for Poe again. “You have a lot of it.”  
“So do you, apparently.” Poe studied Ren’s back, which was clean again, as if they bruising had never been there. “Does it ever heal on its own?”  
“It did last time. But now…” Kylo shrugged helplessly, looking like Ben again. “I don’t know.” Poe bit his lip, studying Ren. Sweat was rolling down the man’s temple, and his skin looked translucent. He stood up, slowly, not quite trusting Ren’s self-restraint. When he didn’t lunge after him, Poe slid into the refresher. Built-in wall lights sprang to life as he approached the refresher and turned it on. He took a few minutes to breathe in the steam and tried to calm down.  
Kylo was still on the floor when he got back, but his breathing had eased up a bit. Poe knelt down and extended his hand. He took it, and let Poe haul him unsteadily to his feet. In the refresher, Poe knelt again and removed his boots and raised his trembling hands to Ren’s belt buckle. He almost let himself believe that Kylo would stop him, say that he didn’t have to. But no. His dimmed eyes simply looked at Poe while he undressed him, not at all embarrassed.   
Poe sighed and pressed his nose against Kylo’s bare thigh, breathing in his addictive scent. Without really thinking about it, he kissed his master’s thigh, running his hands over his muscular buttocks.  
“Sweet, Pilot.” Kylo put two fingers under his chin and Poe knew to stand, hating himself for quietly learning all of this. He squeezed Poe’s shoulders and gestured towards the shower. “Join me.”  
The allure of the hot water was too much to resist. He walked in after Kylo like an obedient child, moaning when the water hit his back, which was now sore again. Kylo opened his eyes from where he had been leaning against the wall, letting the water roll off his face. He turned around and put his hands on the wall in response to Poe’s twirling finger. Poe got a handful of soap and moved his hands methodically up and down Ren’s back, taking care over the spots where the hidden injury was. Kylo stifled a grunt of pain. Poe stopped.  
“No, no, keep going.” Kylo leaned his forehead on the wall, still using his hands to brace himself. Poe tried again, gently working his way across Ren’s back. After a few minutes, he slid his hand around Ren’s waist and grasped his cock. It only took a few coaxing strokes for Ren to become fully erect, and soon his cock was twitching in Poe’s hand. Ren’s breathing hitched up again and Poe increased his tempo.   
“Do you want me to,” he whispered against Ren’s neck.   
“Yes, stars, yes.” Kylo turned around and let Poe take him in his mouth. Poe took him slowly, teasingly, enjoying the expression on Ren’s face. Anything to break him just a little. He tasted so good.  
Kylo came hard, grabbing Poe’s soaked hair as he thrusted deep into the back of his throat. He swallowed back Kylo’s cum, doing his best to suck him clean. Anything to make him happy, to hear—  
“Oh, Poe!” His voice was utterly wrecked, and Poe smiled slightly, kissing Ren’s thigh again before he stood. Kylo seemed to realize his mistake at once, giving Poe a warning look. “Don’t.”  
“I didn’t say anything,” Poe said. His hopes plummeted. Kylo retreated from him any time there was the slightest glimpse of Ben. How was he ever going to get him back? He left the refresher and toweled himself off, once again transfixed by the viewport. There were people out there, free to do whatever they wanted, not a care in the world. Had he ever been like that? He supposed so.   
Wouldn’t they all like to see him now, he thought angrily. Charming Commander Dameron, on his knees for Kylo-kriffing-Ren. He punched the wall with enough force to dent it slightly, jumping when Kylo returned to the room.  
“No, please, carry on. It makes me feel better, your anger.” Ren’s long hair was dripping down his back, plastering his dark shirt to his skin. Poe hated that feeling.  
“I must be one hell of a painkiller, then,” he said, trying himself.  
Ren took Poe’s hand and dug his thumb into Poe’s knuckles, which were already beginning to bruise. He grunted and tried to wrest his hand back. Kylo’s eyes slid lazily shut and open again.  
“Something like that, yeah.” He released him carelessly and got into bed. Poe grudgingly followed suit, turning his back to Ren. His neck was really starting to hurt now. He could feel his pulse directly over the injection site. Ren placed his hand there.  
“Do you want me to fix it?”   
_“Do you want me to fix it?” Ben was home, but only for a day. When Poe had asked about whether or not Ben wanted to see his parents, he’d gotten a resounding no. Poe assumed that it had something to do with the whispered rumor that Han Solo had left the cause altogether. But if there was trouble behind the scenes, it’s not like Ben had been home to see it. Still, if Ben was close with his mother, then he idolized his father. It’s not easy to be let down by your heroes. It was with that in mind that Poe had led Ben to his private quarters. They weren’t huge, and it was hot, but it was just his space._  
Ben looked around with interest, noting the helmet that he had retired and that now rested on a side table. “They’re letting you fly. You’re moving up in the world, Poe.” He smiled when he said it, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  
“Not like you, training with Luke Skywalker! Come on, you must be seeing so much. The man is a legend. And being around other people who can do what you can do—“  
“No one can do what I can do.” This was said with such ferocity that Poe was taken aback. Ben blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been done with training for a long time. Luke couldn’t show me everything I wanted to know. I’m not sure what happens after this.” He tugged on the thin braid that extended past the length of the rest of his hair. Poe suddenly noticed that, at twenty-two, Ben had filled out and broadened. He had at least four inches of height on him now, if not more.  
“What do you mean, not everything? They talk about you everywhere, Ben. About your powers. Gifts.” He swallowed. “Is it true you have telepathy? That’s not common, right?”  
“It’s my strength, yes.” Ben was rigid against his wall. “I don’t like it, Poe. I hear things I shouldn’t, feel grief and rage that doesn’t belong to me.” His voice cracked on the last word and Poe took two steps to close the space between them. Ben dipped his head and kissed Poe roughly. It surprised him. He’d always been the aggressor. Still, he let Ben guide them back onto his bed.  
“Don’t go back. Stay here with me. Or finish and come back here. We can be together, just like the old days.” Poe could already see it in his head. Long nights with his hands wrapped in Ben’s hair, waking up to him in the morning. General Organa would be so happy. He fingered the ring he wore around his neck. Family. Not to replace the one he’d lost, but to build something new.  
“I’m not coming back here, Poe.” He pushed himself off Ben, hovering on hands and knees above him.  
“What?”  
“I’m not coming back here. I don’t want to be here now.” Ben sat up on his elbows to look him in the eyes. Poe leaned back onto his haunches, blindsided.   
“After all that time,” he said slowly. “All the holos and letters and saying you’d come. That’s it?” Ben shrugged him off and reached for his clothes. “You don’t want me?”  
“I don’t know what I want,” Ben muttered. He began putting on the ridiculous amount of layers that Jedi wore, pulling at his clothes so hard that seams popped.   
“Am I not good enough for you?” Poe stood up too, pulling on his pants with much greater ease than Ben. “Not enough for Prince Ben and his line of royalty? Or just too common to understand your power?” He laughed derisively. Ben looked like he’d been slapped.  
“You know that’s not it.”   
“It is though. You think you’re destined to do better.” He was so angry and hurt. “That’s what they say about you, you know. That there’s something…off. Even your own mother is afraid of you.”  
Ben growled. There was an electricity in the room that hadn’t been there before. “Shut up, Poe.”  
“Is that why Han’s taken off, Ben? Is that why he left your mother? Because of you?”  
An invisible hand slammed into his chest and drove him backward. Poe’s head collided with the bedframe. Something hot and wet dripped onto his face.  
“Oh stars, Poe, I’m sorry.” Ben knelt in front of him, but Poe pushed him away. “I can…do you want me to fix it?”  
Fix it? Their relationship, the war, Poe’s face. He wanted so badly to say yes. But instead--  
“No. I want you to get out. Don’t come back here.” Ben looked wounded, but quickly tucked the shock away.   
“Fine.” He stood and lingered at Poe’s door. “Tell them what they’ve heard is true.”  
“Ben…” Poe didn’t know what to say. “What’s true?”  
Ben paused. “Everything.”  
That was the last time he’d seen him until that night on Jakku.  
“No,” Poe said, brushing Kylo’s hand off his neck. “Just let it hurt.”  
His resilience was short-lived. Early in the morning, he’d rolled over to shake Kylo awake, unable to stomach the pain and sleep. He wasn’t exactly keen on waking the beast, but if he didn’t, there was no way he was getting any rest in the few hours they had left. Kylo woke groggily, making Poe suspect that some sort of medication was involved. Stars knew he didn’t sleep otherwise.  
There was a sharp thwack as Ren’s lightsaber jumped into his outstretched hand. Maybe not so groggy after all.  
“What,” he barked.  
Poe leaned away from the business end of the saber. “My neck.”  
“Oh.” He blinked and looked up at Poe through long lashes. “I can’t.”  
Now his pain seemed to triple. “What do you mean? You did it yesterday!”  
Ren turned his head away from him. “Yes, well, you were pissing me off then. It was easier.”  
“Please try,” Poe said. “It can’t be that much of a stretch for you to get angry. It never was.”  
Kylo ignored this elusion to his past life, and pressed his palm onto Poe’s neck.   
“Are you ready? One…two…” On three, Kylo moved his hand from Poe’s neck to his temple, and dimmed his consciousness. All the tension went out of Poe’s body in Ren’s arms, as neatly as if he’d been struck over the head.  
******************************************************************************************************************  
Kylo watched Poe sleeping with quiet fascination. This was the only time that he didn’t glare at Kylo, like he wished for all the world that Ren would drop dead. He couldn’t say he blamed him. But Dameron had no idea what Kylo had saved him from in holding. Execution would have been the least of his worries. He’d been trying to weed out the sociopaths, but Hux was there to directly oppose him at every turn.  
Still, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t enjoying it. He let his hand trail over Dameron’s face, using his fingers to smooth back his strong eyebrows. His beard was growing in, stubble darkening his skin. Kylo wasn’t stupid—he’d give Dameron a razor just as soon as he wanted it stuck in his throat. Devoted to Ben Solo, yes, but he hated—hated—Kylo Ren.  
That made him angry. Every time Dameron rebuffed him, or recoiled from his touch like he was a rabid animal, the darkness inside of him as enchanted. Suffering and hatred bolstered his strength in the Force, and the Maker knew Dameron had an unending supply just for him. What the pilot failed to realize was that it was not Kylo Ren who tormented him. It was Ben Solo.  
Ben (who Kylo had to think about as an entirely different entity from himself, just to keep from going mad) was still angry about the last time they had seen each other. Infuriated by Dameron’s obvious disdain, by how utterly unimpressed he was by everything he--Kylo had managed to do. What he had been through to get here. Ben who reveled in Dameron’s misery. For all intents and purposes, Kylo was just an errand boy catering to a past broken heart. Unfortunately for Dameron, he was good at it.  
Dameron nestled his face into Kylo’s palm and breathed deeply, like he was meant to be there. Kylo could feel the pain beginning to drive him back to consciousness and gently sent him away to a dreamless sleep again. There was nothing to be gained from torturing the man. Not right now.  
He barely had three seconds warning to shove Dameron away from him before she appeared. Speaking of people things that he hated…  
“Now is not the time.”  
“It never is.” Rey was sitting on the edge of his bed, arms crossed. She fixed him with the cool stare he’d learned to expect from everyone around him at an early age. “Have you thought about what I asked?”  
“The answer is still no.” He glanced at Poe to make sure he was still out. “And always will be.”  
Rey followed his eye movements critically. “Someone’s with you,” she said with unflattering disbelief. “Can they see me?”  
“Of course not.” Kylo crossed his arms. “You’re alone, I take it?”  
A faint touch of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Keeping you from doing more damage is a full time job.”   
“You’re not good at it.” This made her mad, he noticed with satisfaction. Good. Wait until they made their move tomorrow.   
“You can’t win this, Ben. We’ve got enough insider information—“  
“I’m not disturbed by your traitor friend. It didn’t help much on the Supremacy.” He laid his hand on Poe’s chest, checking for even breathing.   
“Finn,” Rey stressed, “is not our only convert. Besides, he’s been in no mood since we lost Poe.” She rubbed her face. “Another one of your gifts.”  
“I told you I was sorry,” he muttered. “If he went down, it was no direct order of mine.”  
“I wish I believed you, Ben.” She stood and looked at him, perplexed. “I hope whoever that is makes you happy. Maker knows you wouldn’t let anyone else.” The connection broke, and Kylo relaxed and pulled a shaking hand over his face. Concentrating hard on his anger, he reached for Poe’s neck.  
This time it worked.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!  
> Don't hate me for any errors-my graduate degree, the collapse of Tumblr, and the wait for any Episode IX info are all slowly killing me.  
> May the Force be with you!

“I need you to listen to me closely,” Kylo said to Poe the next morning. “This is important. Are you listening?”  
“Yeah,” he mumbled, then, catching Ren’s eye in the mirror. “Yes!”  
“Do not speak to anyone who doesn’t speak to you first. Particularly not Aminat.” Poe raised his eyebrows and Kylo huffed with impatience. “The woman who was here yesterday.”  
Poe shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not going to try to run. I didn’t even want to talk to her.”  
“It’s not you I’m worried about.” He pulled Poe’s hood around his face. “Should I be?”  
He shook his head. “No.” Kylo cupped his chin.  
“Looking down is a good start on the no-talking thing, but I need to see your face when I’m talking to you, do you understand?” Poe lifted his head and nodded. He didn’t like making eye contact with Ren after fucking him. And he’d done it willingly too! Like a good pet. He shuddered. Twice.  
“Pilot. Focus.” Kylo was dressed as befit a Supreme Leader, his cape a heavy material ringed with silver.  
“Is it cold, where we’re going?” It was always better to talk.  
“Rainy,” Kylo answered. “Did you see Aminat’s face?”  
Poe thought about the woman’s ruined jaw. “Yeah.”  
“Then you understand why you cannot tell her that you were healed.” This was not what he’d been expecting. Kylo grabbed his wrist tightly, correctly interpreting his raised eyebrows.  
“Think, think! If she knows it worked on you, she’ll want to fix herself. And when she realizes that it’s easier to do so by feeding off someone else…” Kylo’s voice trailed away before he added, “I didn’t choose my knights for their soft hearts.”  
Poe shook his head. “No. But she has something in common with me. I think you know.”  
There was a pause, less than a heartbeat’s length, and Kylo said: “That’s it. You’re not going.”  
“What?” His pulse quickened. “But you’re going for five days!”  
“Yes. I am.” Kylo put on his gloves. “And you’re not.” He put up his own hood. “I’ll even leave you out of restraints.”  
His opportunity to leave the ship and be on actual land was slipping through his fingers.  
“Please!” He slid between Kylo and the door.  
Kylo stared at him so intently that his left eye twitched. He looked so much like a wolf in that instant that Poe took a nervous step back, bumping into the doorframe.  
“Please what?” It was both dare and challenge.  
“Don’t leave me,” he mumbled. Then, more clearly, “Again.”  
“Ask me nicely.” Ren put his hands on the door, pinning Poe against it. He leaned forward. “Do you want me to fix it?” The hairs on the back of Poe’s neck stood up.  
“You were in my head again,” he said, turning his cheek away from Ren. “Of course you were.”  
“And always will be, so don’t think you can hide from me in there.” Kylo tapped his head with two fingers. “This argument isn’t very convincing, Pilot. I have to go.”  
“Ben.” Poe wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist.  
“This is the kind of thing that tells me I can’t trust you out there with me.” Kylo stood impassive in Poe’s arms.  
“Please!” He looked up at Kylo’s face. “I’ll do what you want me to do.”  
“Not likely.”  
There was movement from behind the doors. His time was running out. “I will!”  
Kylo frowned at him. “Tone, Pilot.” He paused and detached Poe’s hands from his shirt. “Beg me.”  
“Please!” Kylo just looked at him and Poe dropped to his knees. He hugged Ren’s calves. “Take me with you.”  
Kylo sighed. “This is just embarrassing, Pilot, let me go.”  
He lowered himself onto his stomach, pressed his lips against Ren’s boots. “Please.” Poe didn’t lift his head to gauge Kylo’s reaction, didn’t make any attempt to block a potential blow. He gripped Kylo’s ankle with his fist. “I will do what you want, be totally yours, I will love—”  
“Enough.” Kylo squatted down. “On your knees, my pet.” He pushed himself back onto his knees, trembling from head to toe. He restrained himself from whimpering please one more time. Ren wiped a tear off Poe’s cheek. “You can come.”  
“Thank you,” he murmured.  
“Straighten yourself up. I’m not taking you out like that.” Poe mopped his face with the inside of his cloak, still shaking. He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d caved. Kylo flipped the hood back around his face. “That’s better. Now, will I have to have this conversation again?”  
The question wasn’t teasing, but deadly serious.  
“No, Kylo.”  
“Good.” Kylo patted his belt and then opened the doors. “Let’s go.”  
It wasn’t like last time—most people were at their posts, having well settled in to the daily rhythms of this mission. Instead of the hectic preparations for departure, officers swapped gossip at their desks and storm troopers stood at attention at their stations. There was a certain unease when they entered a room, and Poe had the sense that these people were not used to an accessible Supreme Leader. Snoke had preferred to rule remotely, allowing Kylo to do his bidding. Still, it wasn’t a fearful tension.  
“They like you,” Poe spoke quietly, his head inclined towards Kylo.  
Ren snorted. “Don’t kid yourself. They like that I’m not Snoke, that I’m unmasked, and that I’m young. They think that means I’m easily led.”  
Poe considered this, and tried to see Kylo through the eyes of these older officers. With a quick glance, he took in the black tendrils of hair just brushing his collar, the full lips always quivering on the edge of a pout. He was older than Kylo—nearly five years between them, give or take a few days—but he could rarely see he child Ben still was. Maybe, he mused, this was because unlike the First Order, he found Kylo’s infantile temper frightening, rather than a weakness.  
“You think I’m childish?” There was a sharp cut to the syllables of the last word, like Ren had heard it before and disliked it. Poe tread lightly.  
“Not like these people do,” he answered honestly, knowing full well that Kylo would go raking through his mind if he lied. He flinched when he felt Kylo’s massive hand on his back, but he was only guiding him down a left-hand corridor.  
“I wish you’d stop cowering.”  
“You made me this way.” Kylo opened his mouth, then closed it again, deciding against whatever he’d been about to say. There were fewer officials in this part of the ship, but Ren dropped his voice all the same.  
“They listen to Hux.” Kylo glanced at his comlink and frowned at whatever message he’d received. “He’s your age, but they hold him in much higher esteem.”  
“He’s a legacy kid, isn’t he,” Poe asked, trying to dredge up the intel he’d learned from the Resistance. “Just a hazard guess, but by the look of all the white human officers around here, the First Order likes keeping it all in the family, eh?”  
Kylo shot him a withering look but conceded. “There’s a lot of family tradition rooted here in the ranks. Entire bloodlines forced into hiding after the fall of the Empire that wanted to build something…”  
“Bigger?”  
“Better.” The lift doors at the end of the corridor slid open, revealing the black-clad Knights of Ren, Aminat at the lead. Her mask emitted that strange clicking noise as she called out to Kylo, who held up a hand to silence her. Poe felt vaguely sick.  
Picking up on this, Kylo rolled his eyes at Poe, before returning his attention to his comlink. “Then you should have eaten something before we left.”  
“I was a little busy kissing your ass,” Poe snapped.  
Kylo smiled with his lips closed. “And you’d do it again and again, and you will.” Poe felt a fresh rush of hatred for this man, who had taken his life from him. “Is it really worth your misery, all these petty attempts to upset me?”  
“Of my rapidly shrinking pool of ‘worth it” things, yes,” he answered bitterly.  
“Suit yourself,” Kylo answered, shrugging. He made a sharp gesture over his shoulder, beckoning his knights forward. “And remember, not a word to Aminat. If you so much as look at her, you’ll both feel my displeasure.”  
“I won’t.” Another wave of nausea overtook him.  
“We’ll see.” Kylo pressed something into his hand and then turned to speak with the forbidden Aminat. He was uncomfortably aware of the other knights behind him, but they quickly circled to follow their master, leaving Poe to bring up the rear. He sighed and opened his palm to inspect what Kylo had given him.  
It was a breakfast bread, still warm and wrapped in a napkin. Kylo had thought about this, planned for it. Poe broke a corner off the bread and popped it into his mouth. Berries, Yavin 4 berries. He didn’t consider for one second that this was a coincidence.  
He didn’t know how to use the Force, but he screamed the thought as loudly as he could in his mind.  
Have you invaded there? Is this a threat? Answer me!!  
There was the pain as Kylo entered his mind, and then spoke aloud. “Go on and wait for me at the doors.”  
Poe froze with the bread crushed in his fist as the others immediately complied with Kylo’s orders. He was shaking again. If he had suffered all of this for nothing…  
“Your emotional fluctuations are like those of a fourteen year old girl.” Kylo spoke quietly, calmly, which only infuriated him more.  
“Look who’s talking.” Poe lifted his clenched fist to Kylo’s eye level. “Tell me, is everyone on my home planet dead, to add to your collection? Or is this just a sick joke?”  
Ren cast a quick look over his shoulder. The knights remained still with their backs facing the two of them. He wrapped his long fingers around Poe’s wrist and lowered it.  
“Get your hand out of my face before I take it off.” His eyes darted around Poe’s face, searching for something. “Neither.”  
Relief coursed through him before it was overtaken by anger again. “Then why?”  
“Because it’s your favorite.” Kylo pulled his hood down until it was just brushing his eyelashes and walked away with his hands in his pockets. The doors slid open, letting in a murky grey light.  
Poe blinked at the natural light, feeling completely mislead. He stuck another piece of the bread between his teeth and bit down on one of the berries. Juice flooded his mouth.  
Like so many other things, it was bitter.  
****************************************************************  
When he was a boy, Ben Solo had liked the rain. Rain meant that it was more likely his mother would eschew her obligations for the day and stay home with him. It made their enormous apartment on Gatalenta seem cozy, with Leia pulling him into her lap and reading while the rain pattered on the red dust outside. Then his father would come home, shaking the droplets out of his hair like a dog, and making them all laugh. Chewbacca would do the same, soaking them until everyone was screaming and rolling on the floor laughing…  
“Perhaps you should take him out more, Master.” Aminat’s voice broke through his memories, bringing him back to the present. She lifted her chin in the direction of the ship.  
The pilot—Poe—stood there, hood thrown back to allow rainwater to hit him. The rain tracked down his cheeks like teardrops, but he didn’t flinch. Kylo studied him, just as greedy for this as he was when Poe was sleeping. He spent so much time looking away from Poe, or down on him, that he was never allowed to simply appreciate him. It should be illegal to be that gods-damned beautiful, Kylo thought. His hair curled gently, wilting a little in the dampness. The beard he’d grown only worked to enhance the sharp jawline, his delicious mouth…  
“You’re taken with him,” said Aminat, surprised. She worked quickly to hide her feelings from him, but Kylo still caught a flash of her shock and…jealousy. She wanted to know why this creature had earned something more than the sullen coolness every else received from him. Young students always want to be their master’s lone confidant, until they suddenly don’t. Kylo’s lip curled.  
“Too forward, Aminat.” His voice was light, but he allowed the lightening he’d recently managed to wield crackle threateningly around his fingertips. The girl fell back.  
“Forgive me, Master.” She tapped on her own comlink. “They’re waiting for us.”  
“And they’ll continue to do so. They’re on my time.” Poe flexed his wrists, eyes still closed. Kylo felt a pang of regret for chaining him yesterday, but quickly tramped it down. Going down that path would be the end of him.  
“General Hux has already arrived,” Aminat said, nervously.  
Kylo uttered a curse and stomped over to Poe.  
“We’ve got to go, Pilot.” Poe’s eyes fluttered open. For a second, Kylo was seized by the fear that he really had kept him tucked away too long, and the shock of this had driven him mad. But Poe’s gaze swam and then managed to land on him solidly. Kylo tried not to let his relief show.  
“I’d almost forgotten what real air smelled like. An actual atmosphere and plants.” Poe banged his heel into the sodden ground, making tiny indents.  
“You’re going to get sick if you keep remembering that way.” Kylo flicked Poe’s hood up and around his devastating face, trying not to look directly at him.  
“If I did, would you let me die?” Was the question serious? Did Poe want him to say that he wanted him? Kylo finally looked at his slave dead on and the answer was obvious, etched in every frown line. No. He didn’t want Kylo to want him; he truly wanted to Kylo to let him die if he took ill. So he could get away from him.  
The Force burned in his veins. So be it then. Let the wretched boy know that he would keep him in top physical condition at all cost, if only to keep tormenting him. He would be exactly the monster Poe thought he was.  
“No,” he said simply.  
*****************************************************************  
Poe took a moment to feel jealous.  
He was leaning in his high-backed chair, his arms crossed peevishly over his chest as he took in the spectacle before him. For all intents and purposes, he was free to roam, but it had not escaped his notice for one second that there was a stormtrooper stationed to his immediate left. The guy kept his gaze trained forward (as far as he could tell) but Poe was certain that if he took one step away from this wall that the trooper would follow. Where the hell did Kylo think he was going to go with this tracker in his neck?  
If Ren was trained on his thoughts, he gave no notice he had heard that particular one. He was too busy playing Supreme Leader at a small table at the head of the room, his head inclined confidentially toward the shady-looking sonofabitch that had kept his attention all evening. They were in some sort of Hutt hellhole, and Poe suspected that the man was nothing but a lackey for the monstrous creatures that had settled themselves every few feet with their own cohorts. Still, it didn’t stop his gut from churning with rage when the stranger managed to draw a smile from Kylo’s lips.  
Kylo turned his head and looked directly at Poe, as if he had shouted for him. The smile slowly spread into something more malicious and Poe quickly dropped his gaze.  
It’s not Ben, he reminded himself. Who cares if a million others have him? Fuck it. He let his glance bounce to Ren’s table again. Kylo’s shoulders were shaking with laughter. Actual laughter. Poe slammed his fist against the arm of the chair in frustration. The trooper’s head jerked irritably at the loud noise.  
“I’m getting a drink,” Poe announced to no one in particular. He glanced at the stormtrooper. “Am I allowed to do that?” The trooper gave no sign at all that he had heard him. He took that as a yes and began to weave his weave through the crowded room, giving wide berth to the Hutts and their companions. He was defiled enough as it were without Hutt filth added to it.  
There were small tables set at intervals around the edge of the room, each filled with brightly colored glasses or plates of food. Poe picked up a long-necked flute and threw back its cheerful yellow contents. That one went down smoothly, so he piled another two on top of it. Warmth spread through his limbs.  
“Sir.” The trooper had rematerialized in front of him.  
Poe made a big show of looking over his shoulder. “Me?” The trooper just looked at him, clearly annoyed. Giving up, Poe rolled his eyes. “What, then?”  
“The Supreme Leader wants you.”  
“Does he now?” Poe looked towards Kylo defiantly. His master beckoned imperiously with two fingers. He noted with relief that the man from earlier seemed to have left the table. He sighed and knocked back another one of the flutes before taking his time to amble to Kylo’s table. “You called?”  
“I did.” Kylo’s voice was mellow. “Come faster next time.”  
Poe slid onto the bench beside Ren. “Don’t often hear you say that.”  
Kylo chuckled with his mouth closed, and it was such a Ben action that Poe had to again crush that longing. Reluctant to be loud or draw attention to himself even back then, Ben had adopted the muffled giggle sometime in his early teens. The flute in his hand tipped precariously, shattering his memory, and Kylo plucked it from his fingers, his gaze critical.  
“Are you drunk?” He sniffed the glass and sat it down. “Definitely drunk.”  
Poe rested his head on his arms. “Maybe a little. Could you try not to ruin it for me?”  
“Spoiled,” he murmured. He wrapped his long arms around Poe’s waist and pulled him smoothly onto his lap, like he weighed nothing. Wasn’t right…Poe knew he had put on weight since is capture. Very few things to be said for his life now, but the food wasn’t bad. Which meant that Ren was again leaning on his magic power for strength.  
“Do you ever not use the Force?”  
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s an extension of myself…natural.” Kylo dropped his hands and rested them on Poe’s black-clad thighs, fingers curling slightly around his muscles. The skin on the back of his neck prickled unpleasantly.  
“There is nothing about you that is natural.” He was drunk, but this was clear enough that not even Kylo’s ego could misconstrue it as praise. He raised his hands in front of Poe’s face and delicately tugged on the fingertip of his glove. Poe watched, transfixed, as the materially slid fluidly over his knuckles. He dropped it into Poe’s lap and he caught it reflexively.  
Kylo slipped his hand beneath Poe’s tunic. His breath hitched a little when his palm pressed against his skin and slid upward.  
“This doesn’t feel natural?” His hand continued to caress the planes of his chest, moving towards his neck until Kylo was able to pull Poe back against him. Poe could feel his heartbeat fluttering in tandem with Ben’s.  
No. Kylo’s.  
No, Ben’s, the more stubborn part of his brain insisted. Or maybe more desperate. The atmosphere of the place was getting to him, all loud music and clouds of smoke. His head swam and he leaned back into Kylo’s arms. He found himself wishing fervently that they were alone in their rooms, away from all of this.  
“Ah, ah, ah, Pilot.” He was instantly alert, as if someone had just dialed his senses up to ten. It hurt. Kylo pressed his cheek against Poe’s in some mockery of comfort. “Stay awake. What do you see?”  
Poe flicked his eyes over the crowd, never letting them rest in one place. “Your loyal, idiotic subjects. Criminals you rub shoulders with.” He curled his lip, disgusted. “Wretched excuses for life.”  
“What else?” Poe turned to look at Kylo uncertainly. His wet, red mouth ticked upward into a smile again. “Come on, Poe, you’ve been avoiding them all night. I’ve been watching you.” He held Poe’s chin and turned his head towards the crowd.  
He cleared his throat. “The slaves?”  
“Yes.” Kylo released his chin but kept his head turned forward with the Force. “Do they frighten you?”  
Instead of biting back, Poe finally looked at the slaves. Most of them appeared like every day civilians, but there were some scantily clad (mostly belonging to the various Hutts) and, worse yet, others that appeared to be enjoying their lot. They sat with their masters and mistresses, throwing back drinks and smiling pithily at the lower servants. There was an ease between them that reeked of many years together, and the only thing that differentiated them from free men were the cuffs that encircled their wrists. Just like the ones he was wearing.  
Poe wasn’t sure what was scarier. The hollow-eyed, miserable slaves who glared at him with open dislike, or the flashy settlers who regarded him with naked aspiration. Or maybe the fact that he was both.  
“Somewhat,” he replied. The ability to lie was falling away from him, even more rapidly than his sense of humor.  
“Well rest assured, they are watching you. All of them.” Now that he said it, Poe could feel the weight of all the eyes in the room. No matter how actively engaged everyone was, they were very aware of what was going on at the Supreme Leader’s table. Kylo’s left hand squeezed his neck gently, releasing tension he’d been holding there all night. He dropped his shoulder and tilted his head to allow him better access. And then it dawned on him.  
“I’m a model,” Poe whispered. “Your poster boy for how they’ll be treated under your rule.”  
“That’s how they see it, yes.” Kylo shifted, a sudden rigidity to his position. For whatever reason, this made him unhappy. Which made Poe want to push it further.  
“Is that how you see it, master?” Kylo’s open hand slipped from Poe’s shoulder and made contact with the side of his thigh, making him jump a little.  
“Mouth, Pilot.” He furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting this…mood. They’re curious about you, they’re jealous of you. Some of them pity you.” Poe’s fingers curled into a fist. “Even more than that want to snatch you off my knee.” He jiggled his leg for emphasis, jostling Poe a bit.  
“You can read all of that?”  
“The Force is helpful, but I’m still, no matter what you think, a human male. So yeah, I’m pretty certain.” Poe considered that before speaking.  
“You can’t do this. You can’t let them look at me and think they’re going to…” Poe stumbled over his words, his head still fuzzy from the drinks. “They don’t want this. You’re waging war with aide from flesh traders. You’re playing with peoples’ lives, letting them think it’s all going to be okay.”  
“It’s sort of hypocritical that you say that, because my resistance intelligence informed me that you were quite skilled at gambling lives.” Kylo held his wrist in front of Poe’s face and tapped the comlink that rested there. A holo of the disastrous bomber attack played. He watched Paige Tico die as the dreadnought exploded, pieces of the ship flickering in the air in front of them. “Or, another personal favorite of mine, hang on—“ Kylo tapped the screen a few more times and another video began to roll. The assault on Crait. Pieces of resistance ships blew into nothing.  
“Stop it.” He looked away. “You killed those people.”  
“You led them there. And they followed you, blindly. Are you proud of that?” Kylo sounded genuinely curious. His eyes, sometimes almost green, were large and dark with unbridled interest. Poe gritted his teeth.  
“They knew what they signed up for.”  
“And so did you, the moment you stepped off that ship with me today.” Kylo’s voice had dropped to a dangerous silkiness that often preceded his threats. “And I say again,” he rumbled in Poe’s ear. “If you would give yourself to me completely, if I could trust you…” He waved his hand at the crowds.  
“What? You’d give me some people of my own?” He shuddered. “No thank you.”  
“No,” Kylo said. “I’d help you free them.”  
Poe used his shoulder to nudge Kylo. “Don’t lie.”  
“I’m not.”  
“Prove it.”  
Poe expected Ren to frown at him, or to become angry and deliver some swift punishment. Instead, he wrapped his arm across Poe’s chest to whisper into his comlink. He paused and lifted his head.  
“Which one?”  
“What?”  
“Which one do you want me to get rid of?” Kylo snickered at the look on his face. “Come on, Pilot, I haven’t got all night. You were so eager, now tell me.”  
The faces of the slaves in the crowd. Poe tried to focus on those. First, he landed on some of the hungrier looking ones, the youngest, the most miserable. Their masters were mostly Hutts, cold and cruel. But he couldn’t resist skipping over them to study the well-dressed slaves, who laughed with their masters and snapped their fingers for lesser beings to bring more drinks. He could see the hierarchy, all of the prestige they had carved for themselves out of their pathetic lives. And he hated them for it.  
“That one. In the purple.” Poe lifted his chin toward a table that had the most elaborately dressed group, where their obvious leader sat, draped in copious amounts of lavender fabric. He was at least fifty, with peppered grey hair and piggy eyes. He was surrounded by his well-off slaves, one of which was leaning conspiratorially on his arm to say something. He laughed.  
Kylo nodded and whispered into his ‘link once more. It was swift—one moment the man was smiling and whole, and then an unearthly crack rang through the room as his neck broke. He fell forward in his ridiculous plume of velvet, and was dead before he hit the table. The slave that had so enchantingly whispered in his ear seconds before screamed. People shoved chairs back, bolting away from the table and the unseen assassin.  
“I think,” Kylo said, looking on at the beginnings of pandemonium, “that this is a good time to leave.” He tapped Poe’s lips with his finger. “Close your mouth.” Poe wrenched it shut, feeling horrified as he let Kylo lead him away from the mounting panic.  
*************************************************  
He waited until they were ensconced in the chambers that had been provided for Ren before rounding on him.  
“What was that?”  
“What you asked for.” Kylo unclasped his cloak and slung it over the back of an ancient chair. He tossed his comlink onto the table with equal abandon. He tracked Poe’s disbelieving expression. “What?”  
“You didn’t tell me you were going to kill hi—“ Poe’s sentence was cut short as Kylo slapped a hand over his mouth. Furious, he banged his heel into Kylo’s shins, but that struggle only lasted a moment before the Force settled over him like deadweight.  
“Mmprf!” He tried to force his lip apart, but all he got was a mouthful of Ren’s leather glove.  
“Shh,” Ren crooned. “We are not alone.” He nodded towards the door, which Poe now eyed with newly found trepidation. Despite the warm embrace of the alcohol, there was a heaviness to the silence they were sharing that put him on edge. Someone or something was listening to them.  
“I’m going to let go of you now,” Kylo whispered. “And you are going to be quiet.”  
Poe huffed and nodded as well as he could into Kylo’s palm. The sudden release of the Force hold was murder on his drunken mind, and he swayed precariously as Ren stepped away from him.  
“Of all the kriffing…” Kylo muttered and flicked his hand towards the room’s bed, using the Force to flatten Poe against it. He let his eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of not fighting to remain upright. One at a time, he kicked off his boots and let them thud to the floor. It would be so, so easy to let the booze carry him off for the night, even to forget his anger, but he still couldn’t let go of that nagging feeling…  
He rolled onto his side, fighting to remain focused. Kylo was standing stock-still, his head inclined towards the door, his face intense.  
“Ben?”  
The boy king’s eyes flashed, and he held up a finger to silence him. Now he was annoyed, Kylo Ren be damned. He rolled his sluggish body off the bed and staggered to where Ren stood by the door. He tugged on his jacket sleeves irritably. The ends kept catching on the cuffs. Still silent, Kylo held out his large hands and Poe extended his own. The cuffs released with a hiss.  
“Are you ever going to…” He stopped. Something didn’t feel right. He shivered.  
Kylo’s brows contracted. “Are you hot?”  
“I’ve been told that.” Poe tipped his head back and laughed. The motion caused him to stumble backwards. “Kriff, I’m drunk.”  
“No,” Kylo murmured, taking Poe’s face in his hands. “Not drunk.”  
He lunged for his comlink as Poe collapsed.  
****************************************************************  
“Hux. I need a medic in my room now.”  
The General’s hologram flickered into being, the projection somehow creating a perfect mirror of the wretched man’s sneer.  
“What concern of it is mine if you’ve maimed yourself again, Supreme Leader?”  
Kylo bared his teeth. “It’s not for me.” His heart thudded loudly in his chest, a staccato contrast to the quiet thrum he could sense from Poe. “My servant has been poisoned.”  
“So get another one,” Hux sniped. He lifted a glass of some dark liquid to his lips.  
“A slow acting poison. Most definitely served at the gathering. So if you’re quite sure there’s no way you’ve ingested some too, feel free to ignore me and go to bed. I’ll kill you if it hasn’t by morning.”  
The words had their intended effect. Hux blanched and turned his glass upside down, trickling the liquid somewhere unseen.  
“Very well. I’ll send someone.”  
“Quickly!”  
“Of course.”  
Kylo lifted Poe off the floor with no difficulty, adrenaline coursing through him. The man’s skin was so hot he was sure his blood would boil soon. Despite this, his skin was paling at an alarming rate.  
He was wild with agitation when the knock sounded, nearly wresting the door from its hinges. General Hux entered in the company of a small light-haired woman, her blue cloak inscribed with various medical symbols. Not just a medic, then, but an actual healer. Hux always delivered when he thought his life might be at stake. Two of his silver armored guards—he couldn’t abide the red Praetorian armor after Snoke—filed in silently, maintaining sentry at either side of the doorway.  
The Healer wasted no time.  
“How long has he been like this?” She moved her hands over Poe’s limbs before releasing a small med droid from her pocket. Poe’s face was bathed in a red light eerily similar to the kind his lightsaber cast.  
“About ten minutes, no more. I think he was feeling the effects long before that but I didn’t realize…” Kylo trailed off as the Healer studied the readout from her droid. She let out a low whoosh of breath.  
“Does this man have bloodburn?” Kylo winced. That word was a gut punch to anyone who ever loved to fly, a pilot’s greatest fear. Leia Organa had once had an aide with the disease, although he had not been around to see the final stages.  
Thank the Maker.  
“No,” he said quietly. He waited a beat while the woman injected something into Poe’s arm. “But his mother did,” he mumbled.  
He knew it was a mistake the moment he said it. If his guards had not been trained to never give anything away, he was sure at least one of them would have dropped their weapon. Hux was even less subtle, his narrowed eyes widening with undisguised glee.  
“You knew that?”  
“He told me that.” Kylo held Hux’s stare until he looked away, but there was no disguising the greed on his face. Before, Poe had been an object to him. Now, thanks to Kylo’s own stupidity, Hux saw him as a goldmine, the Supreme Leader’s confidant. Kylo could see it all in Hux’s stupid little mind, scrabbling weak, power-hungry thing that it was.  
“Well, he’s going to live,” the Healer said, smoothly glossing over the tension. Kylo sensed a keen mind, someone who had long worked around ambition-ridden sociopaths. “Whoever was trying to kill him didn’t have their heart in it, or they’re not very good at it.”  
“A warning, then,” Hux said, voicing Kylo’s exact thought.  
“Or just an unskilled assassin,” the woman said quietly.  
“No one hires unskilled assassins in this reach,” Kylo snapped. He bit his tongue, trying to maintain what composure he had left. They already thought him unhinged, there was no need to add to it. “Thank you. Leave us.”  
“Of course, my lord.” The Healer paused. “You’ll want to get him away from the bed soon.”  
“Why?”  
“He’s going to retch from what I gave him.”  
“Perfect.” Kylo unceremoniously turned and gathered Poe in his arms, huffing with the effort. General Hux trailed behind him, watching as he leaned Poe against the tile.  
“You’re crueler than I gave you credit for, Ren.” There was a hissing noise, and then the chamber filled with the acrid smoke the death sticks Hux couldn’t seem to give up. He took a long drag and chuckled. “Knowing this man had bloodburn potential and depriving him of water repeatedly? You must really hate him.”  
Kylo thought of barely concealed revulsion that Poe held for him now, and the way he had mocked him when they first met again on Jakku. Poe was everything that Kylo’s family had wanted him to be, a charismatic poster boy for the resistance. Even now he exuded a superiority that made him too good for anything Kylo offered him. He was half sick from living up to the golden boy’s expectations.  
“I do,” he said, and meant it.  
“No,” Hux said, stubbing his death stick out on the wall. “You did.”  
“You presume too much. Don’t you need to go be tested?”  
Hux smirked. “No. This was meant for you—only you. Which means I’m not the only one to see this.” He turned to leave, and Kylo fingered the lightsaber on his hip. It would be so satisfying to throw it straight through the pretentious fuck’s back—  
“Do as you please, but you need me, Supreme Leader.” Hux didn’t turn around, or even quicken his pace, continuing his leisurely stroll to the door. “Good night.”  
“Get out!”  
The door shut for a final time and he turned his full attention to Poe. His eyelids were fluttering, but he was no nearer to waking up than he had been when the doctor arrived. Cursing, Kylo removed his glove with his teeth and shoved his fingers down Poe’s throat.  
The Healer was right. It wasn’t pretty. By the time Poe got done coughing up all the acrid smelling contents of his stomach, Kylo felt sick by proxy. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The person that had been outside listening to them just before Poe collapsed…he knew he recognized their presence. It was reason that was evading him.  
“Kylo.” Poe stepped out of the adjoining room, looking wan. It was nearly as bad as he’d looked when Kylo had first pulled him out of holding. He didn’t respond to him, just slid into a sitting position, his legs dangling over the bed. He gave no reaction when Poe knelt between his knees, or even when he slid his hand over his calf and up his thigh. Here was all the grateful subservience he had ever asked for, and now that he had it, he found he wanted none of it.  
“Look at me,” Poe murmured, his hands ghosting over forbidden places. “Please.”  
But he kept his eyes shut. He couldn’t. Because he knew why this had happened. Because he knew he’d been the cause.  
_Reckless_ , he could hear the phantom voice of Snoke in his head. _Foolish. Stupid boy._ Because he knew who had been standing outside their door.  
He caught Poe’s chin as he tried to speak again.  
“Can you just once—once—do your job?” Poe’s face fell, just for a moment, but it hardened into something cold quickly. He didn’t answer, just pushed Kylo onto his back before falling once more between his knees.  
_Stupid boy._


End file.
